


Odds of Rolling Dice

by Olivia_Mockingbird



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Heartbreak, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Redemption, Lightsabers, POV Kylo Ren, Protective Kylo Ren, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-08 12:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13458408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_Mockingbird/pseuds/Olivia_Mockingbird
Summary: Kylo Ren tracks down his father’s dice and begins the long process of getting them back to their home, the Falcon. Along the way he struggles to figure out who he wants to be and what his priorities are. Set immediately post TLJ.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo faces the fallout from the choice he made on the Supremacy.

He was taken aback when he saw her. Snoke was dead. The connection should’ve been broken, and yet, here he was, kneeling in front of her, his father’s dice laying in his palm, separated from his skin by a layer of leather.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything. So he remained on his knee and watched as she shut the connection, disappearing just as suddenly as she’d appeared.

The dice were the next thing to go and he clenched the fist that had held them. He had nothing. He was nothing. Swallowing hard, he stood and pushed past the troopers guarding the door.

The Supremacy was beyond repair, which was how he found himself back aboard the Finalizer. He preferred it. It wasn’t tainted by _her_.

‘Let the past die.’ That’s what he’d told her to do. It was a ridiculous demand, considering _he_ hadn’t managed to. He hadn’t been able to kill the Resistance General, killing the Smuggler had only weakened him, and he hadn’t been able to kill the Scavenger on Starkiller. He’d killed _Snoke_ because he _still_ couldn’t kill her. And despite her rejecting him, despite him ordering the Falcon to be shot out of the sky, he couldn’t hate _her_. 

Worst of all, he was now fighting the inexplicable urge to retrieve those damn dice in reality, to give them to the Resistance General in person.

Impulse control, much like anger management, had never been one of his strong suits, both of which had gotten significantly worse at Snoke’s urging. That lack of control was what caused him to smash his helmet, and then his Grandfather’s only moments after returning to his quarters. He knew he wasn’t fit to actually _lead_ the First Order. He didn’t have the patience for it. He considered his ability to recognize his own mental instability a sign that he still had it somewhat together. Which was how he found himself Force choking Hux once again. He put Hux in charge of the Order, but made it clear that he was the one in charge of Hux.

And then he left. He’d disabled the tracker on the Silencer and put in the coordinates for Ahch-To. He hadn’t told anyone in the Order he’d figured out where Skywalker was hiding long before Snoke tortured the location out of the Scavenger. It would’ve meant explaining that he was tied to her and had spent enough time actively connecting with her to not only be able to touch hands, but to memorize the constellations he’d used to find her when he saw the entirety of her life. He hadn’t told the Scavenger either because he didn’t want her to shut him out. He’d elected not to look too closely at why he craved the connection with her. It was a choice he had every intention of keeping, he didn’t want to know.

But he knew the dice would be on Ahch-To and he was sure he could count on the Scavenger to not do something as reckless as to actually go back. He could retrieve them without incident and then…and then…he didn’t know what he’d do after. The resolve he’d felt in Snoke’s throne room with the Scavenger had long since evaporated; when the Scavenger left him, she’d taken it with her.

He closed in on the island that he’d seen when he invaded her mind on Starkiller. Keeping his approach low, he aimed to land his ship in a sheltered cove to keep its presence hidden as best he could. Upon exiting the ship he was swarmed by small fat birds; based on the way they kept nipping at his ankles and dive bombing his head, they did not appreciate his presence. He used the Force to fling them away. They squawked indignantly, but settled for warily following him as he climbed.

At one point he paused, looking down at an outcropping of rocks way below. He recognized them. He was struck with the memory of Rey — no, the Scavenger — he was struck with the memory of the Scavenger smiling as she reached her hand out into the rain. But then he remembered that he was the reason that smile had disappeared only moments later. He tore his eyes away and kept moving.

He stopped once again when he reached the stone hut the Scavenger had previously, albeit briefly, called her own. He knew it was hers because it had been blown halfway to hell by Skywalker, though a feeling in his gut told him he’d know which one was hers no matter the physical condition of it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the feeling of her bare hand pressed against his own. He could still feel a phantom pressure against it. He was seriously considering just chopping his hand off with his lightsaber and getting a bionic replacement, it was family tradition after all, but that same gut feeling told him that no matter what he did, he’d still feel the ghost of her hand against his. It enraged him. 

Given the source of his rage was already rubble at his feet, he was left with only one option. He wasted an inordinate amount of time rebuilding the hut, brick by brick.

There was no rational reason behind it. The hut would never be used again anyway. He realized five minutes in that he normally would’ve just slashed what remained of the hut to dust or gone and destroyed the remaining huts. He still continued rebuilding. When he finished it was dark and he wasn’t stupid enough to go traipsing over the island when it was pitch black out. Still, a combination of pride and remorse kept him from using one of the vacant huts for shelter, and instead he fell asleep laying on the stone steps, picking out the constellations he’d used to find her island.

He dreamt of her pleading with him on the Supremacy, waking up to a weak sunrise before that version of himself decided which path to doom him to. Pushing himself up to his feet, he considered trying to call the dice to him, but it was something he needed to work for, so he took off in the direction he felt a gentle pull in, to the highest point of the island.

He’d just walked past a shallow pool depicting the balance of the Light and Dark, out onto a ledge overlooking the ocean when he sensed her. He instinctively cloaked his Force signature and retreated back into the shadows. Snoke’s assessment of her wisdom was evidently correct. He watched as the Falcon broke atmo. She landed it in the same spot as last time. He let out a sigh of relief, she wouldn’t see his ship unless she went looking for it. 

Once he was confident she wouldn’t spot him on the ledge he darted out, snatching the dice off of a pedestal of sorts. He immediately dropped them as if he’d been burned. He let himself sink to his knees, hanging his head forward. He couldn’t shake the memory of stabbing his father through the heart from his mind. Only after he relived being shot by the Wookiee’s damn bow-caster did the vision release its hold on him, leaving him gasping for air as tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed dried on his face. Once he got his breathing under control, he delicately picked up the dice again and slipped them into his pocket.

He was about to turn around and figure out a way to get off the planet without her realizing he was there, when he sensed a flicker of confusion that didn’t belong to him. It belonged to the Scavenger, which should’ve been impossible since not only was Snoke dead, but _she_ had closed the connection. He had the sinking suspicion that the bond wasn’t Snoke’s doing, but something he and the Scavenger forged when they invaded each other’s minds. He had the sinking suspicion that this bond was something they were permanently stuck with.

His curiosity won out over his common sense, which really shouldn’t have surprised him. He assessed the cliff face and began to climb until he reached the top. From his perch, he could see the Scavenger; she was examining the outside of her hut, circling it.

He could sense her bewilderment; she’d expected a pile of bricks. She couldn’t believe that Skywalker would’ve fixed it, he was the one who’d destroyed it after all. He also glimpsed a memory of some island creatures yelling at her for a smoking hole in the wall of the hut. He couldn’t stop a huff of amusement from escaping when he realized that memory was from moments after she’d shot at him with a blaster; which of course left him unscathed and had evidently blown a hole in the wall. She couldn’t believe whoever those creatures were would fix another one of her messes.

She looked around, searching for the person who’d rebuilt it and he quickly ducked, despite his absurd impulse to let her see him. He watched as she dropped her satchel in the hut and then walked back out with her staff and the lightsaber they’d torn apart. She picked her way across the island and he got flickers of what she was seeing. He felt her jump down into the cavern that had made her feel so alone, the one that had inspired her to reach out to him. She was going down there to construct a new lightsaber. He took the presence of her staff as a sign that she was going to build a double-bladed saber. He almost smiled at the thought. He would’ve loved to see her fight by his side with one, but now the only way he’d see it would be when he was inevitably the one she was fighting. 

Satisfied that she wouldn’t be resurfacing anytime soon, he climbed back down. He stalked across the island, but paused at her hut again. He stepped inside and rummaged around until he found an actual physical piece of paper and something to write with:

> _Scavenger,_
> 
> _Tell the General I’m sorry._

He left the note and the dice on top of her bag. He dragged his feet the rest of the way to his ship, flung those damn birds off of it, and clambered in. He simply sat at the controls for a while, reconsidering his admittedly questionable decision to let the Scavenger know he’d been there, there also wasn’t any guarantee she’d actually give the dice to the General. But in the grand scheme of terrible decisions he’d made, this one didn’t even register, so he left the planet and didn’t stop hiding his Force signature until he’d made the jump to hyperspace. 

He’d set a course for the Finalizer, but the distance he still had to travel gave him plenty of time to change his mind, he really just needed to get off Ahch-To. Ultimately, he couldn’t think of any other options than to return to the Finalizer. He did so with a surprisingly large amount of reluctance. He couldn’t think of a reason for the Order to exist anymore. Skywalker was dead, Snoke was dead, the Smuggler was dead. The Resistance was all but decimated. And still the conflict would continue. He’d thought he’d wanted absolute power, but once he had it, his first instinct had been to share it with another person. And now that he had no one to share it with, he didn’t want it at all.

He locked himself away in his quarters, proceeded to ignite his saber, and destroyed an entire wall. He finally extinguished the blade and turned away from the wall, breathing heavily; he needed to shower.

He found his path to the fresher blocked by the Scavenger, her expression giving away nothing. He stifled a groan of frustration and stepped around her, not wanting to touch her if it turned out they were still capable of doing that. He slammed the door shut behind him and turned on the water, tearing his shirt off. She barged in a beat behind him. Her surprise and horror were palpable when she took in the scars marring his back. 

“Get. Out,” he growled.

Her presence evaporated and he stepped under the scalding water.

When he couldn’t tolerate the temperature any longer and had scrubbed his skin raw he exited the fresher, wrapping a towel around his waist. She was still there.

He glared at her, raking a hand through his dripping hair.

Her eyes briefly flickered down to his chest, “Could you please cover up?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

“I’m in my quarters, I’ll do whatever I damn well please,” he spat.

She crossed her arms, frowning. She opened her mouth to respond.

“Why are you here Scavenger?” he preemptively cut her off.

“So I’m ‘Scavenger’ again?”

“You call me by a name I don’t want to go by. Fair is fair,” he taunted, knowing he sounded childish.

“Your name _is_ Ben.”

“Ben, is gone. Like Snoke. Like Skywalker. Like Han Solo. I told you to let the past die Scavenger. You need to stop holding on.”

She stalked towards him, he watched her warily, knowing she intended to punch him. He couldn’t bring himself to try to stop her, curious to see if she could actually hit him.

He bit down hard on his lip as her fist made contact with his mouth, drawing blood. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, more likely smearing it everywhere, and he laughed.

“Oh Scavenger, you’re going to make a terrible Jedi.”

She barred her teeth, making to punch him again.

He gripped her wrists with one hand and used the other to keep her from kicking him.

“So the question still stands, what are you doing here, _Rey_?”

She looked taken aback by him saying her name and just stared at him.

Relatively certain she wouldn’t try to punch him again, he released his grip on her, still taking a few precautionary steps back.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you rebuild it?”

“Why not?”

“You destroy things.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fix them.”

“Why were you there at all?”

“Did you get the note?”

She nodded.

“That’s why.”

“How did you find the planet? Snoke didn’t tell you before you killed him.”

“I knew where you were long before Snoke figured it out.”

“And you just kept it to yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

She rolled her eyes, “How did you figure it out?”

“I’m not going to tell you; I might need to find you again someday.”

“Why do you want me to tell your mother that you’re sorry?"

“Because I am.”

“So tell her yourself.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Well, what are you sorry for?”

“All of it.”

“All of what?”

“Everything”

“No, I want you to say it.”

He took a slow rattling breath, “For what I did at Skywalker’s Academy, for the Hosnian System, for killing my father, for the pain I’ve caused her. For everything.”

“Anything else?”

He knew she was looking for another apology, but it wasn’t one for his mother, it was an apology for her.

“Not for the General.”

“Then for who? What else are you sorry for?”

“Rey, you already know.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Why? What does that achieve? It won’t fix anything.”

“You want to fix things? Then tell Leia you’re sorry yourself,” she said, pressing the dice into his hand.

He didn’t take them, instead he enveloped the entirety of her hand in his own. They stayed like that for several seconds before she tried to take her hand back. He tightened his grip.

“Ben,” she admonished softly, and he tried to ignore how much he _liked_ hearing her say his name, “Let the past die.”

And then she was gone. The dice remained in his hand. He had to fight the urge to crush them. He settled for pressing the hand that had touched hers to the warped metal of the wall he destroyed, searing the skin on the jagged smoldering edges. The pain covered up the way his hand still burned from the Scavenger’s touch. And yet, it hurt less than once again watching her disappear before his very eyes.

He remembered too late that it was possible for her to feel what he’d done to his hand through the bond. Though she hadn’t come back to yell at him, so he figured that at least this time around, he was the only one suffering. 

He was ashamed to admit a part of him almost wished the Scavenger felt it, only so he could be in her presence again. Still, a greater part of him was relieved he hadn’t hurt her yet again. Snoke had been right. He had compassion for her. Though there was little point to it now that he’d effectively destroyed any burgeoning compassion she had for him. He couldn’t afford to lament that, to regret the choice he made. He tamped down his desire to try to connect with her.

He considered treating the burn but decided the effort of treating a minor flesh wound wasn’t worth the payoff and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep, wondering what nightmares his subconscious had in store for him.

The first few were typical, ones he’d seen so many times they no longer terrified him the way they had when he was a child. But the next dream took on a strange quality. It was as if the dream wasn’t his, he was simply an unseen observer, stuck watching an alternate version of himself.

As the dream took shape, he realized it was in fact not his dream. It was the Scavenger’s. He’d somehow become an audience to her subconscious and was subsequently only able to watch this nightmarish version of himself in horror.

It was Snoke’s throne room and everything was almost exactly as it had been. The Scavenger was kneeling before him, frozen in place by Snoke. She was still looking up at him, though this time there was no confidence, no openness. She stared at this masked version of himself coldly and with fear.

“You know you’re nothing Scavenger. Nothing. Nothing at all. How could you be surprised your family abandoned you? Who would want you?” he heard himself murmur through the voice modulator as tears streamed down her cheeks.

His chest clenched; he was as frozen as she was. Her version of him ignited his unstable saber and raised it. 

Something in him snapped. That’s not how it went. He killed Snoke, not her. He couldn’t handle watching her death, let alone her death at his hand. Control of the dream switched to him. He charged at his counterpart, his own saber ignited and stabbed himself through the back, allowing the masked creature to fall dead to the floor. 

Then scene around them fell away until it was only the two of them in the middle of nothing but dark gray. He was still breathing heavily, actually terrified, while she attempted to process the change of scenery, still on her knees.

He roughly shoved his hair out of his face, extinguishing his saber.

“Is that really what you think of me Rey?” he demanded, voice shaking under the strain of the numerous unidentifiable emotions attempting to suffocate him.

She hastily pushed herself up to her feet, “I —”

“Do you really think I could do that to you?” he could barely conceal the hurt in his voice.

“You said I was nothing,” she accused angrily.

“But not to me. You’re not nothing to me,” he pleaded, though he couldn’t place what he was pleading for.

He took a tentative step forwards, slowly reaching his hand out towards her.

She flinched backwards and his chest constricted again. 

The uncertainty in her eyes quickly faded as she narrowed them, zeroing in on his palm.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked flatly.

He jerked his hand down to his side, he’d forgotten about that, “Nothing.”

“Kylo…what did you do to your hand?”

It was his turn to flinch. He hadn’t expected her calling him ‘Kylo,’ would hurt, but it felt like she’d shot him with that blaster again or reopened the scar she’d carved into his face.

“My hand is fine,” he snapped harsher than he’d intended.

“That’s a third degree burn.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” he gestured to his face.

She looked away uncomfortably, before glancing back at him, “And you got that wound treated.”

“It was a lightsaber wound. This is just a burn.”

“Why are you arguing with me about this?” she asked as if he were a petulant child.

“Why do you care?” he challenged.

She made to speak, but no words came out. She shut her mouth and settled for crossing her arms defensively while letting her eyes roam, appraising him.

“Looking for additional injuries?”

“Someone has to since you’re evidently incapable of doing it yourself.”

“My question still stands, why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

He laughed, “You can successfully lie to me just as well as I can successfully lie to you, which is to say I always know when you’re lying. So tell me, why does it matter to you?”

She clenched her jaw, dropping her fists, also clenched, to her sides.

“You’re not going to punch me again, are you?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I told you Rey; you’re not nothing to me. I want to know if I’m nothing to you.”

“Ren…don’t…don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Whatever you’re trying to get out of this interaction.”

“I’m trying to understand you.”

“I don’t want you to understand me. I don’t want to understand you. It makes things easier.”

“You mean it’ll be easier for you to kill me when the time comes if I’m just a creature in a mask.”

She swallowed hard.

“Yes,” it came out almost as a whisper.

He looked at her wistfully, “It’ll be easy. I promise. When one person is fighting to kill and the other isn’t, everyone knows how the fight will end before it starts.”

“Why do you want to connect so badly?”

“You’re not nothing to me,” he repeated.

“Then why didn’t you choose me?” 

The moment the questions left her lips, a look of hurt, embarrassment, and horror flickered across her face before disappearing, leaving him alone in the dream.

“Because I’m a monster,” he murmured to the empty space and then wrenched himself awake. 

Pushing through his exhaustion, he forced himself out of his bed and stumbled to the fresher. He quickly located some bacta and a bandage. He smeared a decent amount on his hand and covered it with the bandage.

He tugged at the bond lightly, she was guarding her thoughts from him, but hadn’t walled him off. He projected an image of his hand towards her. She didn’t respond, but he was rewarded with a gentle wave of amusement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey attempt to be civilized when the Force connects them.

After that shared dream, there weren’t any subsequent ones or real conversations. He was limited to sending and receiving flashes of images and superficial emotions, but it was consistent and he would honestly take any interaction she deemed him worthy of.

This went on for weeks, but then he was hit with pure unadulterated joy, her guard was down and curiosity got the better of him once again, he willed himself to be there with her, to see what she was seeing, to be close to her Light that was absolutely blinding him at that point.

He observed her silently for a while. She hadn’t noticed him, too enthralled with running through lightsaber forms with her saber staff made of two crystal white blades. It turned out that, while he may never see her fight by his side with it, he would get to see her use it at least once without her trying to kill him with it. Watching her he realized the moves she was using weren’t from any Jedi teachings, she was simply taking things that worked in her past and applying to her new abilities and resources. The quintessential scavenger.

A feeling of contentedness blanketed him and he realized that he could watch her practice with her saber for the rest of her life and he wouldn’t once get tired of it. He decided to ignore the implications of that realization.

A yelp took him out of the moment and the end of a white saber inches from his throat firmly rooted him back in reality.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

“You’re guards weren’t up, I was curious,” he tried to come across nonchalant and not completely awed by her mere presence.

She narrowed her eyes, “How long have you been watching me?”

“Longer than I care to admit.”

Surprisingly, she turned redder than him after he answered her question. She looked down and backed away from him. She was embarrassed by her lack of training.

“Doing proper forms are overrated, do what feels natural,” he continued.

She relaxed slightly and looked back up at him, “Is that what you do?”

“What tipped you off?”

“When we fought the Praetorian Guards, it was seamless, but I could never actually anticipate your next move. You improvise.”

“When your opponent can use the Force, it’s possible for them to see your next moves before you even decide what to do next. So I don’t plan. I just move with what works.”

“I beat you on Starkiller.”

“I told you earlier, when one person is fighting to kill and the other isn’t, the one fighting to kill will win.”

“You weren’t trying to kill me?”

“Rey, I had you pushed up against a ravine. You have no idea how much trouble I got in for not shoving you over.”

“Why didn’t you? Why could you kill your _father_ but not me? I’m a scavenger whose parents’ deemed alcohol more valuable than her.”

“You’ve never been nothing to me.”

“But your father —”

“They sent me away! I had a family, I knew them, but they were never there, they were afraid of me, and then they pawned me off onto my Uncle, who later tried to kill me in my sleep. Family is overrated.”

“Yes, because you’ve clearly been in an excellent place since you disowned them,” she snapped.

“I’ve had Snoke whispering in my head for the past 29 years; I was never in a ‘good’ place.”

She stared at him stonily, saber staff loosely gripped at her side. 

He had the distinct feeling that the only reason he was able to successfully call it to him was because she hadn’t even considered it a possibility.

“Hey!” she shouted, outraged, and charged at him.

He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face and she faltered, coming to an abrupt halt. He got glimpses of her thought process. She hadn’t thought him capable of smiling, but the reason she stopped was because in that moment he looked so much like his father she could almost see the person Ben could’ve been.

He hastily turned away from her. His face gave away his inner turmoil and he couldn’t let her see how much regret he was living with. 

He ignited the blades, twirling it a few times until he got his emotions under control. He turned to face her again and handed it back.

“Impressive,” he settled on a one word appraisal.

She cocked an eyebrow, “You’ll have to excuse me if don’t take your critique to heart, considering the state of your lightsaber.”

He chuckled, “I suppose that’s fair. Do you want to spar?”

She didn’t actually answer his question, instead simply swinging her already lit saber at him.

He wasn’t sure if they could actually maim one another through the Force, but he didn’t exactly want to find out. He brought his own saber up just in time to block her first attack.

Neither of them could gain the upper hand long enough to actually call it, so they continued for hours. It was only because she had taken care to not step on one of those stupid fat birds that he managed to corner her against the cliffside, using her distraction to his advantage.

“Yield,” he demanded, trying to pry her staff from her grasp.

“Porg.”

He didn’t ease up, he wasn’t going to let her distract him so she could over take him. Still he cocked his head, eyebrows raised, “Porg?” he questioned slowly.

“Those birds. They’re called Porgs.”

“Good to know, I’ll send you recipes.”

“You didn’t eat one while you were here?” her eyes had gone wide.

He successfully grabbed her saber, “No, but now I’m considering a return trip,” he grinned.

This time she just studied his smile, fascinated by its existence.

She cleared her throat suddenly, “You won, you don’t need to keep me pinned up against a rock to stop me from attacking you. I play fair.”

He practically jumped away from her, he hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to her. To cover up for that lapse in judgment he responded, “You survived on Jakku for the better part of 20 years. I highly doubt you did that by playing fair.”

She barked out a laugh and he was transfixed by the way her nose crinkled. 

They lapsed into a surprisingly comfortable silence. She was the one to break it.

“Don’t you have things to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the Supreme Leader now. Aren’t you supposed to be leading?” she gestured vaguely.

Her words didn’t come across as angry or hateful, but sad.

He purposely didn’t look at her, “I put Hux in charge of everyday things,” he said stiffly.

“You hate it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You hate being in charge. You’re an irrational, irresponsible, impatient person who not only shouldn’t be in charge of anything, but probably shouldn’t work in group settings.”

Since he couldn’t refute anything she just said, he asked, “What are you going to do now?”

“Help the Resistance in whatever way I can.”

“You still need a teacher.”

“I know,” she sighed.

“So where will you be going?”

“I am _not_ telling you the location of the Resistance base.”

“Why not?”

“You’re my enemy.”

He couldn’t hide the hurt that flashed across his face. He looked away and she swallowed hard.

“You know I wouldn’t do anything with the information. I haven’t told anyone I know where you are, I have no intention of kidnapping or killing the General,” he paused before adding quietly, “I have no interest in any of it.”

“Then why?”

She didn’t need to specify what she meant by ‘why.’

“Path of least resistance. There’s nothing for me in the Light. I may not actually want it, but in the Dark I have power.”

He finally looked back at her. Her eyes had gone glassy.

“You said that I wasn’t nothing to you,” her voice wavered.

Before he could even process what she said he was flung back into himself.

He desperately tugged on the bond once he realized what he’d said, but her walls were up, all he could do was hover and hope she would eventually get mad enough to yell at him.

He’d told her that he wanted her to join him because she wasn’t nothing to him. Now she thought he’d lied to her about that, manipulated her, and he couldn’t fix it.

That’s what he was good at, breaking things beyond repair. Rey was good at fixing things, but eventually she would run into something she couldn’t fix, apparently she already had. She couldn’t fix him.

There was nothing for him in the Light, because he couldn’t be with her in it. Going back meant facing what he’d done, it meant doing better by people, and the best thing he could do for her would be to stay away. In the Dark, he didn’t have to acknowledge that being tied to him was arguably one of the worst things to happen to her. 

He had nothing in the Light because _he_ was nothing. In the Dark he could at least cloak the emptiness with power.

Besides, he wasn’t the one who had given up. _She_ was the one who ran. _She_ was the one who turned on _him._

She never cared for him. She never wanted him the way he wanted her. She didn’t love him. 

In the Dark he could use that to make himself angry, to make himself powerful, fueled by her betrayal. He could fool himself into believing that the heartbreak he felt, the loss that haunted him, the fact that he’d loved her were just her manipulations through the Force. In the Light, he would have to accept that she never cared for him because she _couldn’t_ care for him, because no one could care for him. No one could love a monster. In the Light he’d have to accept that he still loved her, that he’d loved her from the moment the Skywalker saber flew to her hand instead of his on Starkiller, that he’d always love her.

It didn’t matter, even his father wouldn’t bet on the odds of him returning to the Light.

He lived the next month in a fugue state. Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader, truly stepped into the role he was meant for and the First Order conquered more systems and gained more resources and support. The successes he’d ensured made up for the fact, while the Resistance hadn’t gained any ground, he had done nothing to try to wipe them out.

But Kylo Ren was a creature in a mask. What was left of the man behind the monster had given up. He completely relinquished control to the monster with the condition that he wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore. If he and the monster weren’t happy, they were at least cooperating. 

He’d long since stopped trying to connect with Rey. He was alone, but he was almost able to convince himself he didn’t care. He trained to exhaustion, so that instead of dreaming about her, his sleep was only haunted by the atrocities he had a hand in. He took advantage of the increasingly large number of women looking to get something from him in order to try to forget the exact shade of hazel her eyes were, the way his name sounded falling from her lips. It almost worked.

Despite all his precautions, his mind instinctively reached to connect with hers. He still saw her looking at him with tears in her eyes when he closed his own. His hand still burned from her touch. There was an ache in his chest that had been present since she reached for the saber instead of his hand, it had lessened when they’d connected through the Force after, but spiked whenever she left, now it throbbed incessantly, though it was hardly the most painful thing he experienced, it reminded him of her and that was what hurt.

He was emotionally wrecked. He tried to lie to himself. He’d killed Han Solo and Snoke. He could kill the Scavenger and the Resistance General. He could kill them all. But then he would be reminded of his father’s hand on his cheek before he fell, how it was only due to pure unadulterated rage at Snoke for lying to him about the conflict that he was able to stand and fight instead of flinging himself off the walkway after his father. He was reminded that he’d had the chance to kill his Mother, but he didn’t take it and had instead shot down the TIE Fighters that had accompanied him and done the job for him. He was reminded that he killed Snoke for Rey, to save her, to protect her. As it were, he’d altered the Order’s programming to ensure that only he could open reports on the Resistance.

He was compromised.

But there was no one digging around in his mind to reveal that information, to punish him for it. That leniency only applied to the Resistance because of two of the people in it. He still had things under control, for the most part. Hux, however, had become a problem, a liability. He’d managed to convince Hux that building another planet killer was a waste of resources. The first three had failed, a fourth would face the same fate, despite his father no longer being around to blow it up. It was when he shot down Hux’s plan to build a fleet that featured modified super-laser siege cannons and instead use half of the funds needed for that endeavor to rebuild what had been destroyed by the Resistance and then use the rest to aid systems under their control, to improve their image, did Hux become suspicious.

He knew Hux didn’t believe the Scavenger had managed to knock him out, kill the Praetorian guards, and kill Snoke, but he knew Hux was smart enough to not challenge him when the Order held him in high esteem. It was a wonder how much low expectations helped. When he’d taken control and after the “mishap” on Crait, they’d expected more of the same from him, violence, temper tantrums, and maintenance orders. So when he appeared to make reasonable tactical decisions, didn’t Force choke anyone aside from Hux, and didn’t destroy public areas with his saber, they’d quickly fallen inline, much to Hux’s surprise and chagrin.

Proposing to aid the systems under their control, though a reasonable thing to do, was not the First Order’s MO. It wouldn’t be a popular move amongst the high command, which Hux could use to his advantage to overthrow him. He couldn’t let that happen. It was time for old things to die and Hux would only plunge the Galaxy back into the madness that had plagued the end of the Empire and more systems would be destroyed. Starkiller could never happen again, he’d been adamantly against that project, though his protests had been met with torture from Snoke and he chose to look the other way, but he couldn’t shut out and couldn’t forget the way the Force had wailed when the planets had been annihilated.

He’d also told Hux to look into restructuring the Stormtrooper program. Phasma’s death was unfortunate, but he had been able to use it as a valid reason to question Hux’s method of abducting children. That hadn’t gone over well either, but it reminded him of what Snoke did to him and the Jedi Order, so it needed to go.

All in all, it wasn’t surprising when Hux finally confronted him, he wouldn’t have simply sat by while someone attempted to rule in a vaguely humane manner.

He kept more modest quarters than Snoke, he refused a throne room, opting to remain in his old rooms and claiming a nearby conference room for himself to work in. He’d sensed Hux striding towards him through the halls, but didn’t look up from his data pad until the door opened.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux bent in an awkward bow, a grimace on his face and loathing dripping from his voice.

“Hux,” he answered flatly.

“Forgive me for asking again…” he swallowed hard, so at least he was still scared of him, “but I don’t understand your explanation for how the Supreme Leader died.”

“I _am_ the Supreme Leader.”

“Snoke then. I know she’s capable of besting you, but how did the girl defeat the guards and Snoke?”

He bit back an angry retort and the temptation to fling Hux back out into the hall, “Like you said General, she bested me. When I came to, they were all dead and she was gone.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he growled.

“Well, then it’s good that the footage from the throne room is salvageable. It’s encrypted and damaged, but we should be able to access it within the standard week, figure out exactly what she’s cable of, so that the next time we capture her, she won’t escape.”

He kept his face expressionless, he’d gotten better at that, “Good, I trust you’ll inform me when it can be reviewed.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader,” Hux attempted another bow that looked just as painful as the last and excused himself.

He was no longer in control of anything. He hadn’t considered the footage survived after the lightsaber exploded and a Resistance ship plowed through the Supremacy at light speed.

Hux paused at the door, “How was she captured? We assumed she’d gone to Skywalker, and our map was incomplete.”

“We still don’t know where Skywalker was, but she’d returned to aid the Resistance, we intercepted her ship as she dropped out of light speed. Are you done asking questions that are no longer relevant?” he snapped.

“Yes, apologies.”

Once he was certain he was alone, he began pacing. He knew Hux would eventually stage a coup, but he’d thought he would have more time and he hadn’t considered Hux would have actual evidence he’d committed treason.

He could kill Hux, but then someone else would just take his place and the enemy you know is always better than the one you don’t.

He needed to warn them that they had a week to disappear and hide until they had enough resources to take down the Order in one sweep. There was no way he could convince the Scavenger to believe him, even if he was able to connect to her. He couldn’t risk exposing their communication channels, which left one other option, inform them in person.

He knew they were on Bespin. Not exactly surprising, Lando _did_ still run Cloud City, but he assumed that he and his mother hadn’t kept in contact. He knew Lando tried to maintain neutrality, so hopefully that would be enough to keep him from shooting him for killing Han. He deleted all the data on the Resistance from the mainframe, ensured his lightsaber was hooked onto his belt and was prepared to stalk down to the hanger towards his ship when he saw those damn dice glinting in the sterile light of his room. He paused before sitting down and formulating a more eloquent note for his mother than the last one, in the event he couldn’t get to her in person:

> _~~General~~ ~~Princess~~ ~~Leia~~ Mom,_
> 
> _Take Dad’s dice. I can’t keep looking at them, I don’t deserve them. Look out for that Girl with the staff. She is the most important person in the Galaxy; make sure she knows that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry; for everything. I’m not asking for forgiveness, I’m not worthy of it, just that you trust me enough to believe me when I say that I would do anything to change the past. Hux is in charge of the Order now; I can’t keep your location hidden any longer. Move your base now and then move it again. Don’t fight, not now, not yet._

It didn’t even begin to express the depth of what he _needed_ to get across, but it would have to do. 

He made it to his ship and did a quick scan for trackers, satisfied the ship was clean, he punched in the coordinates for Cloud City and streamed out of the hanger, but before activating the hyperdrive he picked apart the Finalizer with his cannons before anyone fully comprehended what was going on.

He left the bridge intact to ensure that Hux survived, not wanting to figure out the psychology of a new enemy, but did what he could to incapacitate the ship before TIE Fighters were scrambled and then jumped to hyperspace, barreling towards Bespin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo has absconded from the First Order to meet up with Lando.

He wasn’t sure how much Lando knew about what had happened after he’d been sent to Luke. It definitely wasn’t common knowledge that Ben Solo and Kylo Ren were one and the same. To most of the Galaxy, Ben Solo had gone missing along with Luke Skywalker. Given that word of Skywalker’s death has spread, Ben Solo was most likely presumed dead. He had to remind himself that Ben Solo _was_ dead; he’d killed him. 

He almost believed it.

Still, he didn’t think arriving as Kylo Ren would go over well, so when a voice crackled over the comms, asking for his clearance he said, “This is Solo, now put Lando on the damn line.”

After a few moments of static a familiar voice announced itself, “Han? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“He is,” he replied, heart surprisingly heavy, “this is his son.”

“Kid? You’re supposed to be dead too.”

So Lando didn’t know, that was good, it would make getting the dice and note to Organa easier.

“Well, I’m alive for now. Any place I can land this ship, preferably out of sight?”

“Following in your old man’s steps after all huh?”

“Not exactly…”

“Well, we can talk about it later. You remember where your dad would always put down the Falcon, you can land there, it’ll be cramped — the Falcon is there right now, but you can fit.”

“No!” he shouted a little too loudly.

“You in trouble with Leia?”

“Something like that…”

“Alright, I’m assuming you know where my personal hanger is, you can put your ship down there, I’ll meet you.”

Lando was waiting in the hanger as he put the Silencer down and approached once he clambered out and his feet hit the ground.

“Hey Kid.”

“Thanks Lando,” he grumbled, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one; your old man owed me a lot of favors.”

“How is that my responsibility?”

“You’re the one that killed him.”

He felt his face blanch. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t know?”

“Why did you let me land then?”

“Any reason for you to willingly show up here alone would have to be important and worth hearing.”

“You planning on turning me over to my mother?”

“No, but I can’t guarantee she won’t track you down while you’re here.”

“Is that an invitation to stay?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why?” he asked suspiciously, two out of three uncles had tried to kill him, the odds didn’t look good.

“You’re gonna need a place to lay low and Maz isn’t as forgiving as I am.”

After a look of bewilderment crossed his face, Lando elaborated, “It’s not in the news _yet_ , but Kylo Ren is wanted by the First Order. They sent out a picture of your helmet and that nasty saber of yours along with a bounty attached to it, twice the amount of credits for you alive. No picture of your face though.”

“Shit…” he mumbled; Hux had the footage.

“Why no photo of you?”

“They don’t have one. The lack of a mask was a newer development.”

“You expect me to believe the First Order doesn’t have cameras everywhere?”

“They do. I just know how to avoid all of them,” except for the ones in the Throne Room he amended silently.

“Fair enough. You want to tell me _why_ you’re the most wanted man in the Galaxy? Or am I going to just have to find out when your exploits make the news?”

“I technically committed treason,” he replied stiffly.

“What the hell does that mean?” Lando asked, absolutely baffled, before turning away, meaning for him to follow.

He heard Lando muttering under his breath, “ _Technically_ committed treason. My God you’re Han’s son…”

As he trailed half a step behind him he finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“My place. I have several spare living quarters; pick whichever one you want.”

He chose the second highest level of the skyscraper to call home for the time being.

Standing in the middle of the living area, he worked up the strength to ask, “And my mother…where is she?”

“The _Resistance_ has occupied the lower levels of the city, less conspicuous this way.”

“Good.”

“You should go see her before someone claims that bounty on you.”

He shot him a look, “I can’t. Not after what I’ve done…”

“Suit yourself Kid. That said, she and Chewbacca will be up here at some point.”

His face evidently took on a look of horror.

“They’re my friends, you think I’m just gonna hide them away in the bowels of my city and not try to provide some comforts?”

“You had your friend frozen in Carbonite,” he pointed out dryly.

“And you killed him!” Lando shouted back.

“Just give me heads up; I don’t think I’d survive being shot with a bowcaster again.”

“Again?”

“After I — After what happened to — After what I did, he shot me in the gut with that damn bowcaster.”

Lando laughed loudly, “And yet here you are, standing.”

“Yeah, no thanks to him.”

“You know he could’ve aimed to kill you.”

“I know,” he growled.

“So, what’s up with your face?”

“It got cleaved with a lightsaber.”

“I can see that. When?”

“After the Wookiee shot me.”

“You’re killing me with the details Kid, who did it?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, “A girl,” he spat.

That damn girl had ruined everything. She’d ruined him. He loved her and he hated her for it.

“You mean Rey? The one who killed Snoke?”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

Lando gave him that same look that either of his parents gave him when they knew he way withholding the truth. He glared in return, snapping, “What?”

“So, how did you _technically_ commit treason?”

“I’m the Supreme Leader. I don’t report to anyone.”

“Which means whatever you did, happened before _Rey_ killed Snoke.”

“Yes.”

“So what the hell did you do that was worse than that? Your bounty is triple the entirety of the Resistance.”

Evidently Lando knew everything. He was surprised, he didn’t think she would have told anyone about what happened on the Supremacy.

“Who told you?”

“Your mother.”

“Who all knows?”

“Pretty soon everyone will.”

He rolled his eyes, “Who did she tell besides Organa?”

“How should I know? I’m not in the Resistance.”

“I’m disappointed, I didn’t realize your intelligence gathering skills aged as poorly as you did.”

“Very funny Kid. At least I don’t have a scar running down the middle of my face.”

He traced the scar lightly with the pad of his thumb, “She was kind enough to miss my eye,” he said bitterly.

He noticed Lando staring at him peculiarly and he quickly dropped his hand, clenching it into a fist at his side.

“God, you’re exactly like your father.”

“How? Is it my uncanny ability to disappoint everyone? Or is it my inability to meet basic expectations?”

“No, it’s the fact that you’ve fallen in love with a woman who deserves a hell of a lot better than you.”

“I know,” he bit out without thinking about the implications of what he just agreed with.

He realized his mistake as soon as Lando raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck, no that’s not what I meant.”

“That is exactly what your father said. Leia is gonna get a huge kick out of this.”

“Lando, I swear to God I will murder you.”

Taking a few steps back, hands raised in surrender, “Hey, hey, easy Kid. I won’t say anything. But if I noticed, there is no way in hell your mother doesn’t know.”

He glared halfheartedly at the man, knowing he was right.

“I hate that she’s Force sensitive.”

“Your mother or the girl?”

He paused, thinking about it, “Both,” he growled.

“I hear ya Kid, but without them the entire Galaxy would be screwed and you know it.”

“That your way of telling me the Galaxy would be better off without me?”

“God, Kid, no.”

“It would be though.”

“You’ve definitely screwed up, I’ll give you that, but no it wouldn’t be better off.”

“You’ve gone senile old man.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“God I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual Kid.”

“Good. Now will you please tell me who in the Resistance knows what happened on the Supremacy?”

“Why does it matter, like I said, soon everyone will know.”

“Exactly, and depending on how much footage is shown, someone else could get in trouble.”

“You’re worried about Rey.”

“I’m asking to be polite. I _can_ take the information from you.”

“She only told Leia and Chewie as far as I know.”

He ran his hand down the scar again, “Shit…” he muttered.

“How could anything they show be more incriminating than you murdering Snoke?”

“She tried to get me to leave with her and I said the word ‘please.’”

“Ok, that is pretty bad.”

“You should warn her.”

“You’re the one with the Force link or whatever it’s called. You do it.”

“She won’t listen to me.”

“Ahh so you’re in trouble with Leia _and_ Rey.”

“Yes, so I need you to help them because they won’t accept it from me.”

“I’ll tell you what, my sources tell me they’ll officially brand you a traitor in four hours. I can get a majority of the Resistance up here under the guise of safely viewing whatever “big” announcement the First Order has. Only Leia, Chewie, and I know what the announcement is. I’ll warn Rey and you can sneak off to deliver whatever you’ve been fidgeting with in your pocket.”

“Solid plan,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm.

“Clear out Kid.”

“Fine.”

He turned and stalked towards the elevator.

“Be careful,” Lando called after him.

“Don’t hit on my mom,” he replied before the doors slid shut and he descended towards the surface.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dice get to where they're supposed to be and shit gets angsty.

Once he stepped out onto the street he paused. For the first time in his life he was alone in his head with nothing to do. As soon as word of what happened got out that would change, but just for that moment, he was strangely free. 

He had a grace period of about four hours and he honestly couldn’t think of what to do. Normally he’d spar, but that wasn’t exactly an option. So he headed towards one of the bars that Han had dragged him to on the few occasions he took him anywhere in the Falcon.

Everything on Cloud City was bright and clean and it made him uncomfortable. He normally stood out due to his height alone, but now, entering the bar he felt like a smudge of dirt on Lando’s pristine city. He had to admit the man was a good leader.

Looking around for a corner to tuck himself into and drink he realized that everything was round — there were no corners to hide in. 

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair before stepping up to the bar and taking a seat. He ordered a Corellian Whiskey, using a slight wave of his hand to convince the bartender that he didn’t need to pay.

He downed his drink and ordered another but decided to call it quits after that, he couldn’t afford to get wasted. He scanned the room, there were several opportunities for him to get laid and it had served as a decent distraction in the past, but for some reason the thought of it now made him feel guilty. He couldn’t tell if he felt guilty because it hadn’t been _her_ or because he always ended up imagining it _was_.

He decided not to follow that train of thought, instead caving and ordering another whiskey. Once the glass was empty, he pulled away and exited back out onto the pavement. Lando hadn’t told him where exactly the Resistance was hiding, but he figured the maintenance hatch near where his dad always put down the Falcon was most likely his in, given that lead to a labyrinth of tunnels and several unmarked rooms that the Rebels had used as sanctuary. Finding it wouldn’t be hard, he’d gotten lost down there often enough as a child that he had the layout memorized.

He took a meandering route towards the hanger, stalling for time. Time so that no one in the Resistance would see him and time for him to prepare for seeing the Falcon again. It never got easier, but he had to hope it would.

He finally worked up the nerve to tug on the Bond again. It had been at least a month since the last time he’d tried to pull her to him or push himself towards her. He wasn’t surprised to be met with the impenetrable wall she’d erected between them. It hurt and he was reminded of why he’d stopped trying. It was easier to ignore the way his mind tried to reach for hers if he pretended that not only was the wall not there but that she wasn’t behind the wall either.

But he was more desperate than he was the last time he’d tried. The last time he’d tried he’d known where she was and even if he hadn’t he had been secure that if he couldn’t find her through the Bond, the First Order’s spies would find the Resistance. Now he didn’t have that security. If they left Bespin, which they _needed_ to do, he would have no way of finding them unless they ended up in the same system by chance and he was able to track them through his mother’s Force signature.

So he tugged on the Bond again, marveling at the way it had only seemed to grow stronger despite her best attempts to sever it. It hadn’t atrophied like a muscle in its disuse and he was grateful for that.

Despite trying for over an hour to reach her, the only indication he got that she was even aware he wanted to see her was her guards seeming to raise even more than they already were.

That realization forced him to stop as he recalled doing the same thing in his vain attempts to keep Snoke out as a child. After another thirty minutes or so, something that he hadn’t even noticed tense up relaxed and a sigh of relief that wasn’t his own escaped him.

A part of him wanted to go back to Lando’s skyscraper, just to catch a glimpse of his mother or of _her_ , but given his luck, he would be spotted, so he forced himself to wait patiently just out of sight of the hanger he needed to sneak into.

Once he saw people trailing out of the hanger en mass, he waited 15 minutes before stretching his senses to see how many Resistance members had stayed behind. Satisfied that he would be able to avoid the five people that remained behind, he stalked into the hanger adopting his father’s air of confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing and slipped into the maintenance hatch.

His feet hit the floor and he was struck with the echo of laughter from when his father would chase him through the maze of corridors. He hated that Skywalker was right; his father was always with him. He clenched his fists, smashing one into the wall to distract himself from the memories that threatened to overtake him and stalked towards his destination.

He stepped out into a significantly wider corridor indicating that one of the doors ahead of him was where he needed to leave the dice. He was slightly surprised he hadn’t gotten lost. He was more surprised that he hadn’t considered their would be guards for the pathetic excuse of Resistance “Headquarters”. Normally, he would’ve ignited his saber and dispatched the two Resistance fighters in front of him, but that wasn’t very conspicuous. Snapping their necks also wasn’t an option, the Resistance couldn’t afford to lose any more people and if Lando found out he would probably redeem the bounty on him himself. So he panicked, reached for the thread of their consciousness, tugged on it and allowed them to drop to the floor unconscious. He would need to wipe their memories before he left, but that wasn’t his priority at the moment.

He spread his senses out again, searching for the remaining three people. They were clustered together in one of the far rooms, so that one was out of the question. He really didn’t know how much time he had before the remaining members came back and he didn’t have time to open every door to try to find an appropriate place to leave the dice. He considered just leaving them in the center of the hallway and hope someone tripped. But then another being made its presence known. It wasn’t a life form, but anxiety radiated from it meaning it could only be —

“Master Ben!” C-3PO exclaimed louder than necessary, “I calculated the odds of you returning to be 15,380,0—”

He lunged for the droid, slamming his hand over its mouth, “Shhhh,” he hissed menacingly before slowly extracting his hand.

“Oh my—”

“3PO, I need you to shut up for once. Can you do that?”

The droid tilted his head and he sensed that a reply was coming so he cut him off again, “Ok, just be quiet. I need you to do that for me.”

He was satisfied with the nod he received.

“Remember when I was younger, I would give you letters to pass on to the General because you saw her more than I did? Well, I need you to pass these on to her now.”

He dropped the dice and note into the droid’s hand.

“Of course Master Ben, I shall give the General your regards.”

“No, you can't tell anyone I was here, especially not her. Now go.”

He watched the droid walk towards a room that he presumed was where his mother was staying and disappeared inside, a sense of dread swallowing him.

“You didn’t kill the guards; you’re getting sloppy.”

He groaned inwardly. Of course she stayed behind. She still had her walls up.

“Just make it quick,” he called out over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here Kylo?” she demanded.

He couldn’t stop the way he flinched at hearing her say that name, but he finally turned to face her, “You told me I needed to apologize myself.”

“I didn’t mean you should just waltz right on in. Do you have _any_ sense of self preservation?”

“No, not really.”

“You need to leave,” she urged, actually grabbing his arm, careful to avoid touching his skin, and pulling.

He stayed rooted to the spot, “Get it over with now Rey.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You might as well kill me now; get it out of the way.”

She let go of him as if he’d electrocuted her, “I’m…I’m not doing that!” she spluttered.

“It’s going to happen eventually and there is no time like the present.”

“Why?” she eyed him warily.

He swallowed hard, “Because you can’t fix me. Because you deserve better than being tied to a person you despise.”

She reached her hand out for him again. This time she tentatively pressed her finger tips to the scar she gave him, “I don’t, I can’t despise you.”

“You should.”

“I know,” she nodded solemnly.

“I love you,” the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think to stop them.

She offered him a small smile. It was sad. 

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Why do you think I can’t hate you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For kidnapping you, for torturing you, for throwing you into a tree, for not following you back.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be. I know you can’t love me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“I know.”

He knew what she was going to say. She was going to say she was sorry because if they hadn’t turned away from each other she could’ve loved him. She was sorry that she learned to love someone else after shutting him out. 

It hurt less to believe she never could’ve loved him. That he never had a chance. It couldn’t hurt that she chose the pilot over him if she never could’ve chosen him in the first place.

It made sense. His mother loved the pilot like a son, he should’ve expected that the girl he loved would love him instead. 

He knew he should walk away from her. Instead he took a step forward and her hand slipped from its place on his cheek to the side of his neck.

She didn’t even flinch, she just stared at him. He stepped closer still, tentatively cupping her jaw and tilted her head up.

He brought his mouth down to softly meet hers. He pulled away gently, backing up as her hand fell to back her side.

“See you around Sweetheart.”

He turned around and headed back the way he came before he could see her reaction.

Back on the surface, he made a beeline for the closest bar. He regretted kissing her. He knew what he’d lost and now he was eager to drink to forget it. He watched clips of Snoke’s and the Praetorian Guards’ murders as they were played out on the holo. The footage was grainy and there was no audio. The still of his face was poor quality and only captured his profile. As long as he didn’t go around brandishing his saber and kept a low profile he wouldn’t run into too much trouble. The Scavenger wasn’t as lucky, they had several photos of her from her time clambering all over Starkiller Base. He stopped paying attention after he watched himself kill the last Guard, not wanting to experience the Scavenger’s rejection again if they happened to show that as well.

Several drinks in he was numb enough for the heartbreak to downgrade to a dull ache and made him apathetic enough to not feel guilty for having another one-night-stand. He scanned the bar for a woman who would remind him of Rey the least, before accepting that he would be reminded of her no matter what. He settled on a blonde woman who looked like she would sooner kill him than sleep with him. Taking note of her blasters, he realized she would more likely sleep with him, knock him out, and turn him into the First Order. She was clearly a bounty hunter and he was feeling reckless.

He successfully got her in the elevator of Lando’s building, took care of her needs, got her to take care of his, and when she asked what his name was he said it didn’t matter before getting her back in the elevator, sending her down alone.

He couldn’t help but at least be comforted by the fact that his dad was probably proud he learned something from him. Though thinking about it, he was more like his father than anyone else. He inherited his piloting abilities, recklessness, and apparently a penchant for drinking problems away as well as turning into a philanderer. He was exactly like him and he couldn’t even pretend to hate him any longer, only accept that he missed him.

The look Lando gave him once the blonde was gone, however, was not impressed.

“Really Kid?”

“What? It’s not like you behave any differently.”

“I’m not in love with anyone, unlike you.”

“Yeah well, it’s not mutual, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Han didn’t think it was mutual. He actually thought that your mother wanted—”

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t believe _any_ of you thought it was a good idea to tell me _that_ story.”

“Alright, alright. Fair enough. Did you take care of what you needed to?”

“Yeah, and before you ask, no one died in the process.”

“Well thanks for not murdering anyone while you’re here as my guest.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you see the tape on the Holo?”

“Yeah, I’m not completely screwed.”

“Maybe you’re not, but most of the Resistance has some questions for Rey.”

“She can handle it.”

“You’re not worried?”

“You saw the same footage I did; she doesn’t need anyone’s help or protection.”

“One of the reasons Han loved your mother. Now what is your plan Kid? You just going to stay here forever, drinking and bringing home a different woman every night?”

“No,” he growled, “Eventually my Knights will come after me; I’ll clear out once they start searching.”

“And how will you know?”

“I trained with them at Skywalker’s Academy; I can sense them. Also I believe _this_ will help you get access to First Order data and communications,” he said smugly, pulling a data chip out from a small pocket, hidden in the seam of his pants.

“You sure you don’t want to stay indefinitely, I could use you as a smuggler.”

“Nice try, but I’m not sticking around long enough for you to freeze me in Carbonite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT ship Damerey (I'm terrified it might happen in Episode IX though) but I needed to break Kylo's heart because I enjoy pain. I promise that Damerey will very quickly blow up in Poe's face. (Side Note: I have SO many issues with Poe - he is actually the worst IMO) 
> 
> Basically, I'm sorry I did this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo has some heart-to-hearts to make up for the fact that he had his heart broken when he returned the dice.

When he finished making himself somewhat decent the next morning he went up to Lando’s level to ask him if he knew if the Resistance was planning on leaving. Lando wasn’t there, but someone else was. He blinked slowly, unsure of what to do. 

He had never planned on seeing his mother again, but there she was standing in the middle of the room, regal as ever. He didn’t know how to feel about the lack of hatred in her eyes as she looked him over.

He settled for heading towards one of the couches and dropping down onto it heavily, staring at the floor.

“Are you really here? Or are you just projecting?”

“I’m here Ben.”

He swallowed hard, “Why?”

“To thank you.”

“To thank me?” he spoke slowly, “For what? Being complicit in the destruction of an entire system of planets? Murdering your husband?”

“That’s enough!” Leia snapped, the temper he’d inherited from her finally shining through, “I cannot _begin_ to express how _angry_ I am with you. But try as you might to deny it, you are still my son and I still love you. I know my parenting left a lot to be desired. I know you didn’t get any positive reinforcement before, so I am thanking you for risking your life to help the Resistance.”

He raised his head, giving his mother a pointed look, “I didn’t do it for the Resistance.”

She smiled sadly, “I know, but I also know you’d prefer it if people thought that instead of having them know who you really did it for.”

He didn’t disagree, just looked away. He couldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t talk about _her._

“You look so much like him.”

He glanced back. He knew he looked like his father. He felt his hand on his cheek every time he looked in the mirror.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you hate him so?”

He stood then and began pacing before he gave her the same answer he’d given Rey, “I didn’t. I tried. I tried to hate all of you. It was a weakness. A weakness Snoke ordered me to purge.” 

“But you didn’t kill me. I know you had the chance. I felt you decide not to take that shot. Why were you able to kill him?”

“I wasn’t. He’s dead because of me, but I wasn’t the one who ignited the blade.”

Leia gave a watery laugh, “Of course…that old fool. He always shot first.”

She reached towards a dusty box that was sitting on the table by one of the windows, opening it and unfolding an old leather worn jacket. His father’s jacket. She held it out to him, “He would want you to have it.”

He hesitantly took it, appraising it before shrugging it on. It smelled like engine oil, whiskey, and home.

“Will you find a new base?”

“We have one picked out, we’ll be leaving as soon as we finish loading the Falcon and the ships Lando was able to give us.”

“Good,” he nodded his head awkwardly.

“Will you come with us?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Ben, please.”

“I would put everyone at risk, in case you forgot, there is a significant bounty on my head.”

“We all have bounties on our head, _you’re_ the one who doesn’t have an actual face attached to it.”

“Hux will have my Knights tracking me.”

“You’re the only family I have left.”

“And if I come with you, you won’t have any family left because, no matter what your orders are, they all hate me enough for at least one person to shoot me on sight. Besides the Resistance is its own family. I learned that the hard way,” he said ruefully.

He’d offered Rey belonging with _him_ ; he offered her the _Galaxy_ , but he wasn’t good enough; he wasn’t _family_. She had that family now, and she had what _he’d_ offered her with the _pilot._

He was only a little bitter.

“I’m so sorry Ben.” 

“Don’t be Mom. I chose this path. The consequences are my own to bear.” 

“You’re smarter than him. And a better pilot.” 

“You’re only saying that because you’re my mother, but I appreciate it anyway.” 

“Well, you have to believe me when I say you have better hair because you inherited _that_ from me and no one’s hair is better than mine.” 

He chuckled lightly, “Fair enough. I suppose you have evacuation procedures to oversee now though?” 

“The idiot behind the attack on the Dreadnaught and getting the transports shot down on the way to Crait has been properly mollified and demoted, so they can be left unsupervised for a little while. Besides, I have some questions that I don’t trust Rey to answer honestly.” 

“You mean your little Jedi isn’t above lying to a superior officer?” 

“She isn’t a Jedi and she won’t ever be one. You know better than most that it’s an impossible way to live, especially for her. You know her better than anyone.” 

“I doubt that’s true now.” 

Leia just rolled her eyes, “There are also questions that only you can answer.” 

“Such as?” 

“How did you know to meet her in the hanger when she basically express delivered herself to you?” 

“I sensed her…” 

“And?” 

“I was already in the hanger…” 

“Do I need to pull the information out of you?” 

“I was going to find her…I was worried Luke had attacked her.” 

“You knew where she was?” 

“Yes,” he didn't elaborate and she didn't ask him to. 

“Why were you afraid Luke attacked her?” 

“He saw us together, he blew the hut she was in apart. I wasn’t going to just let him murder her like he tried to murder me.” 

“ _She_ tried to murder _him._ Well, not murder, but she did attack him viciously.” 

“She _is_ vicious.” 

“What happened after Rey threw her saber to you in the Throne Room?” 

“She asked me to stop the attack on the fleet and I didn’t” 

“That’s what Rey said. I _know_ there is more to it than that.” 

He swallowed hard, “I said she was nothing,” he winced at the memory, “but not to me. I asked her to join me. She went for the saber instead. We ended up pulling it apart with the Force. The explosion knocked me out. When I came to my saber was hooked on my belt again and she was gone — she’d taken Snoke’s escape pod.” 

“Well, you certainly have a way with words.” 

“I’ll admit, it sounded better in my head. Does anyone in the Resistance know where you are? Who you’re with?” 

“They know I’m meeting with one of Lando’s sources. Rey altered the memories of the two guards’ you knocked out. So only Lando, Rey, 3PO, and I know you’re here.” 

“So 3PO will probably have told everyone in about six more hours. I think the longest he’s managed to keep a secret is 24 hours.” 

“He’ll behave.” 

“He’d better, for his sake.” 

“For your sake as well.” 

“I can take care of myself.” 

Leia raised her eyebrows skeptically. 

“I never said I was good at it.” 

She rolled her eyes in exasperation just as the elevator doors slid open. He glanced behind him, expecting Lando or the Wookiee. It was instead a women with blonde hair, a shade darker than the one he picked up at the bar the night before, pulled into a bun above each ear like his mother used to do, stepped out. 

“General—” the rest of the sentence died in her throat. 

He quickly faced forwards again, as if she couldn’t see him because he couldn’t see her. 

“Lieutenant Connix,” his mother began smoothly, “I suppose now is a good a time as any to introduce you to my son, Ben.” 

She gripped his elbow and dragged him around to face the woman. 

Connix took a step back and he turned to his mother, “A good a time as any?” 

She shrugged, “It would never be a good time, ergo, a good a time as any.” 

“ _This,_ ” Connix gestured to him, “is our _source_?” 

“Yeah, I’m the source.” 

“General! You can’t possibly—” 

“Connix, need I remind you of what happened the last time you undermined authority?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“Good, now why are you here?” 

“Ships are loaded. We’re ready to leave.” 

“Kaydel, I have a comm for a reason. What happened that is so important you need to come here?” 

She shot him an uneasy look before quietly saying, “She’s _gone_.” 

His mother sighed in exasperation, “ _Who’s_ gone?” 

“Rey.” 

He tensed immediately. Her walls were still up, he couldn’t sense her, couldn’t sense where she was, couldn't even sense if she was safe. 

“What the hell happened? I was _very_ clear that if anyone had a problem with her actions they were to come to me about it because I was the one who sanctioned them.” 

“She and Poe were arguing about _him_. I don’t know what she did, but he’s still out cold and she’s gone.” 

He tried to tamp down how pleased he felt that Rey had evidently been angry enough at the pilot to knock him out. 

“Ok, Kaydel come with me, I’ll take care of this and you are not to say a word about who Lando’s source is. Ben,” his mother called for his attention, “Find her.” 

“Right,” he strode towards the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor. 

He made a beeline for the bar he went to the night before, snagging a bottle of whiskey, sensing he’d need a significant amount of liquor to get through this day. He made his way through another set of maintenance tunnels he acquainted himself with as a child, relying on a hunch that she’d probably seen it in his memories at one point and would be drawn to it the same way he had been. Once he reached the end, he climbed down the rungs that led to a small platform beyond the rim of the city. He sat, swinging his legs between the bars, leaving them hanging over open air. She made no movements to let him know she was aware of his presence. 

Finally, he nudged her, offering her the bottle of whiskey. 

“I’m not drinking that. I’m not some girl you can get drunk and then sleep with.” 

“I don’t sleep with drunk women, tipsy at the most.” 

“Spoken like a man in love.” 

“There’s no point in being in love if it’s unrequited, besides, why do you care?” 

“I don’t,” she snapped. 

“Of course. My mistake.” 

He took a swig. 

“What are you doing here anyways?” 

“Your friends are looking for you.” 

“So why are _you_ here?” 

“I know you better than they do.” 

She just hummed noncommittally. 

“So, why did you knock the best pilot in the Resistance out?” he tried and failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

“It could’ve been you. You could’ve been the best pilot in the Resistance if you had come back with me.” 

“I couldn’t have come back with you. You know that. I didn’t have the luxury of choice. But you…you did. You could’ve stayed. But you left. _You_ chose _them_.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. 

He snorted, “Yeah, you seem it. How soon did you forget about me? A week after you shut me out? Or were you already with him when the Force was still connecting us?” 

He glanced over at her, there were tears silently streaking down her face. 

“Why did you knock him out?” he asked again. 

“He wouldn’t let it go.”

“Let what go?” 

“That we’re bonded, that I didn’t kill you.” 

“You closed the bond and my mother took responsibility for the fact that you left me alive.” 

“But I didn’t tell him. And now he doesn’t trust me.” 

“I don’t have a great track record when it comes to interpersonal interactions, but I’m pretty sure knocking a person out doesn’t promote trust. It’s one of the reasons you don’t trust me.” 

“I know that, but he kept asking me questions and I panicked.” 

“You panicked because he asked you questions?” 

“They were loaded questions, and I didn’t give him the answers he wanted.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey continue their conversation.

“You’re not going to demand I tell you what he asked me?”

“No, given what you did to him, I’d rather not risk being on the receiving end of your wrath. Especially because you could very easily just fling me over the railing.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure?”

She turned to look at him with an unexpected amount of certainty, “Yes.”

“Why did you shut me out?”

“You said I was nothing.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you knew it. You _knew_ what you meant to me.”

“It was easier, less complicated, with you out of the picture.”

“It always is,” he said more to himself than to her, “How quickly did you move on?”

“Don’t do this Ren.”

“How long? How long did you wait? You waited over a decade on some junkyard of a planet for people who didn’t even _want_ you.”

She began to cry in earnest, but he didn’t stop, “Was it as soon as you shut the door of the Falcon in my face on Crait? Or did you have decency to completely cut me out of your life before moving on with _him_?

“Please…” she whimpered, begging him stop throwing what she’d done in her face.

“No. I risked everything for you. Everything. And then I offered you the Galaxy. But you wanted more. It wasn’t enough for you. I wasn’t enough for you. Tell me, what has that pilot done for you?”

“He’s been there,” she spat viciously.

His anger disappeared and all that was left was weariness. He’d wanted to be there, to be with her; she hadn’t let him.

“I tried,” he murmured, “I tried to get you to connect with me. I never left.”

He wouldn’t ever leave her behind.

“I know,” she conceded quietly. “You made it difficult to ignore your existence.”

“And yet your managed,” he said ruefully. 

“Well you apparently had means of distracting yourself.”

“Momentary distractions that didn’t mean anything.”

“Intimacy and affection are actually significant to some people.”

“Intimacy and affection are _very_ different from what I was doing.”

“How?” she seemed genuinely confused, almost curious, and he was reminded of how little she knew about relationships and what different types entailed.

“I’m not the person you should be asking.”

“Who am I supposed to ask?”

“ _Not_ me,” this wasn’t a conversation he particularly wanted to have with her, so he changed the topic, not even attempting to be subtle about it, “Were you happy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Were you happy? After you shut me out?”

 _Are you happy with him?_ was left unsaid.

“Why does that matter?”

“Just because I won’t abandon you, doesn’t mean I won’t leave you alone if you ask me to. Just say the word and it’ll be like I was never here until you change your mind, if you ever do.”

“That’s not how it works. Your influence is everywhere.”

“Fine, say the word and I’ll disappear as much as I can.”

“Whether you’re here or not, I can’t escape you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He asked me if I loved him.”

He hadn’t expected her to say that, “Beg pardon?”

“He asked me if I loved him.”

“And?” he asked, not understanding why that was a loaded question.

“I’d never said those words before.”

“I thought that-”

“You thought I’d told him that?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes?” he answered cautiously, afraid of setting her off.

“I hadn’t. Those words mean something.”

“I know, there’s a reason you’re the only one I’ve said them to outside of family.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, but her cheeks had turned slightly pink and they both remained silent for a moment.

“You said you didn’t give him an answer he wanted to hear…”

“I told him ‘no,’” she sighed.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t,” she said plainly.

“I get _why_ he wouldn’t want to hear that, but people fall in love at different rates. Give it time.”

She gave him a strange look, “Why would you say that?”

He could hardly believe he was saying it himself, he shouldn’t be pushing her towards him

“He makes you happy,” he swallowed hard, “you deserve that.”

He refused to look at her.

“I never said I was happy after I shut you out.”

He risked a glance over at her, she kept her eyes glued straight ahead. He reminded himself that what she said wasn’t the same as her saying she’d been unhappy.

“I don’t understand why that question was bad enough that you threw him against a wall hard enough to knock him out.”

“That wasn’t the question that made me panic. It was just one of the many he asked.”

He wanted to ask her what the question was, but he stopped himself. She would tell him when she was ready, if she wanted to at all. He wouldn’t push her to open up to him. He would risk waiting for her to open up to him again. 

“I would suggest apologizing when you go back.”

“I don’t know if I’m going back.”

“Yes you are. You’re always going to go back to them. They will always be your choice.” _I never will._

“And what about you? What are you going to do? You can’t exactly go back to the Order.”

“I have a large penance to pay. I’m going to be working on paying it by whatever means I happen across.”

“But not by joining the Resistance?”

“There are more important things in this Galaxy than war. Not enough people take care of them. That said, I fully intend to wreak havoc on the First Order at the same time.”

“You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Yes I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m alone.”

“Oh really?”

“Really, I have plenty of ghosts following me around.”

“I see,” a shade of disappointment crossed her face.

“Besides, even if you shut me out, I know you’re there,” he continued softly.

“I wasn’t happy, by the way, with you locked out.”

“Then why did you keep doing it?”

“Path of least resistance.”

He couldn’t stop the huff of amusement that left him as she echoed his words.

“Turns out easy doesn’t equate to happiness,” she added.

“Nothing in this galaxy worth having comes easy.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair Sweetheart.”

She sighed heavily before taking him by surprise and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I have to get you back to the Resistance, Rey. They’re ready to leave.”

“ _I’m_ not ready to leave.”

“I will carry you the entire way there if I have to. I will not have my mother thinking I’ve kidnapped you.”

“That’s fair, it didn’t exactly end well the last time you did that,” her tone was light, almost playful.

“The _only_ time,” he reminded her, “I learned my lesson.”

He moved to stand up, and bit back a laugh as she whined.

“C’mon, up.”

He offered her his hand to help her up and he held it a little too tightly onto hers when she grasped on.

They walked back side by side; he shortened his stride to match hers. The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was heavy. He glanced down at Rey — her hands were clenched into fists at her side.

He opened his mouth to ask if she was ok, but she gave him a warning shake of her head and he remained silent. She didn’t want to talk and he wouldn’t force it.

They reached the hanger the Falcon was in too soon for his taste, but instead of going straight in, she stopped next to him, he couldn’t exactly walk on through. He turned to look at her again; she was ringing her hands.

“It’ll be fine. They’re your family, they’ll forgive you for putting someone in the medbay.”

She snorted and then looked up at him. She was smiling and he had to consciously remember how to breathe.

“Ben…” her eyes were swimming with some unidentifiable emotion and he pulled her towards him, tucking her head under his chin before he could get lost in them.

He was ruined for anyone except her. He knew he wouldn’t survive hearing her call him “Kylo” ever again. He wanted to be Ben for her.

Eventually she extracted herself from his hold and he forced himself to let her go.

“I threw him into a wall because he asked me if I loved you.”

He bit his lip and stifled an absurd desire to laugh, “Sweetheart, I think the solution would’ve been to say ‘no.’”

She looked up at him, that same unreadable expression as before gracing her features, “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

“I used to,” he acknowledged.

“And now?”

“Now I’m humbler,” he replied, barely managing to keep a straight face.

Rey didn’t even try, she burst out laughing, “Only you could make that statement sound like bragging.”

He couldn't stop the smile he reserved only for her from spreading across his face, “I’ve realized that you’re actually the one who knows everything.”

“Really?” she sounded surprised.

He shrugged somewhat sheepishly, “You’ve always had the upper hand.”

“But you trust me?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

“Then believe me when I say that answering ‘no’ to that question wouldn’t have solved anything.”

“And this did?”

“Maybe.”

“Saying ‘no’ would’ve been the path of least resistance.”

“I didn’t want an easy solution. I wanted a worthwhile solution. I wanted a solution with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Valentine's Day gift to you is angst with some fluff at the end <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben lets Rey go.

He was quiet for a moment, processing what she’d said, “No you didn’t. You’re retroactively applying a reasonable explanation to an impulsive action. You panicked because even though you don’t love me, I love you and that’s almost as bad.”

She frowned up at him.

“Tell me I’m wrong Rey.”

“Why do you always assume the worst?”

“If you assume the worst, you’ll never be disappointed. Nothing good comes from getting your hopes up.”

He’d had his hopes up when she’d showed up on the Supremacy. She’d quickly dashed those hopes after her arrival.

Evidently she’d followed his train of thought.

“I didn’t want to leave you. I hooked your saber back to your belt before I left so you wouldn’t be defenseless.”

“You wanted me to come back with you. You didn’t want _me._ There’s a difference.”

“And you just wanted _me._ Not what we could’ve achieved had I stayed?” she asked incredulously.

“So you admit that we would’ve been unstoppable?”

“ _Not_ my point, but you didn’t answer the question. Did you really only want me?” 

“Yes. I’d incorrectly assumed you felt the same way. I hadn’t realized you’d come because you thought you could help the Resistance. I’d thought you’d come for me.”

“I did!”

“No. You came for the same reason Skywalker tried to kill me. You thought I had some sway over the outcome of this war, of the Galaxy. You came for a weapon. You left when you realized it was broken beyond repair.”

She looked near tears again, “That’s not true…”

“Isn’t it though?”

“Why are you so insistent on this interpretation of events?”

“It’s the easiest explanation.”

“You said nothing worth having comes easy.”

“Exactly, and I’m not something worth having.”

Before she could confirm or deny what he’d said, he added, “You should go now.”

“Why are you pushing me away?”

“To protect us.”

“From what?”

“From each other. You’ll destroy me and I’ll destroy you…We’ll destroy each other — Also you really shouldn’t keep the Resistance waiting any longer.”

She took a step back, “Fine,” she conceded, “but we’re not done yet.”

“We’ll never be done Rey,” he agreed.

She nodded once and then he watched her walk away from him. He forced himself not to follow, instead he stood there like an idiot until she disappeared into the Falcon. 

He waited until the Falcon took off before going back to Lando’s. The connection between them seemed to pull taught; it was borderline painful and this time he closed the bond. With the feeling of separation dulled he was able to focus on planning out his next moves. He would have to trust his mother to keep the Resistance safe, their fate was officially out of his hands. He, however, had his own problems, namely the Knights of Ren.

They would be coming after him soon enough and if they managed to get to him in the open, he wouldn’t be able to fight them without giving away his identity, his saber was more notorious than the mask. He could of course use the Force and he was good with a blaster, but he didn’t like his odds against six Force users with sabers. He needed to build a new one. 

He couldn’t exactly go out and find a new Kyber crystal, but he could heal the one he had. The Skywalker crystal had broken clean in two which allowed Rey to make her double bladed saber the color had evidently changed to match the balance she held within when she’d meditated with it. He could do the same, he could fix his crystal, or at the least hopefully find enough balance to stop the way it bled. 

He dismantled the saber and carefully extracted the crystal, making sure to avoid slicing his palm open on the sharp edges again. Examining it, he was honestly amazed it hadn’t combusted yet.

He felt a light tug somewhere in the back of his mind and without thinking, he automatically let his guards down. The sensation of being in two places at once, the slight pressure on his ears soon followed and Rey appeared, sitting cross legged on the floor.

It had been a long time since the Force had actually connected them and he loomed over her, unsure of what to say.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Nothing. I didn’t do this. I don’t know why the Force is connecting us now,” he rushed the words out, he didn’t know what type of reaction to expect from her.

“I know, I did it. What are you holding?”

He crouched, reaching his hand out, palm up, for her to see, “My kyber crystal.”

She plucked it from his hand without hesitation, bringing it up to her face to examine.

“How long has it been cracked?”

“Since I turned it red. It kept resisting me and it cracked under the pressure.”

“I think you were the one resisting. What are you doing with it now?”

“I was going to try to heal it.”

“What color will it turn?”

“If I do this right, it’ll be white.”

“And if you do it wrong?”

“It might actually explode in my face.”

She nodded and passed the crystal back to him.

“You’re making this connection happen. Why?”

“I need a reason now?”

“Since you kept me locked out for months and you have nothing to gain from doing this, yes; you have to have a reason.”

“He doesn’t remember.”

“Who doesn’t remember what?”

“Poe. He—"

“How _hard_ did you throw him?”

She ignored his question, “He’s still mad, he knows we were fighting, but he doesn’t remember asking me _those_ questions.”

“Does he remember you assaulting him?”

“I didn’t assault—"

“Does he remember you tossing him into a wall?”

“No.”

“Then lie.”

“What?”

“I’m assuming you’re telling me this because you don’t know what to say to him. I’m telling you to lie.”

“Lie about what exactly?”

“Well don’t tell him you’re directly responsible for his concussion.”

“That’s helpful.”

“I’m really not the person you should go to for advice about…well anything. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I consistently make terrible choices.”

“You killed Snoke. You’ve been undermining the First Order and protecting the Resistance.”

He shot her a withering look, “I didn’t do any of that because it was the right thing to do.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make them terrible choices.”

“What’s your point?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t have _friends_.”

“We’re not friends?”

“No.”

“Well then what are we? Because we’re not strangers and I refuse to be your enemy.”

“I don’t know what we are Rey.”

“What am I to you?”

“You already know.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. I already told you.”

“Tell me again then.”

“No. It’s best that you’ve forgotten.”

“How is that for the best?”

“You really don’t want to know.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not an answer you want to hear.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Rey…” he warned.

“Just tell me!”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please Ben.”

He groaned, dragging his hand through his hair, “You want to know what you are to me Rey? Everything. You’re everything. You are _everything_ to me. I told you that on the Supremacy. You didn’t want that answer then and I’m sure you don’t want it now, so I’m sorry.”

“Ben…”

“What else do you want from me Rey? Do you want me to beg you to stay again? Do you want me to tell you that I love you again?”

“What do _you_ want?”

“What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. Monsters don’t feel. I don’t know how you can feel so much, it’s overwhelming.”

“If I’m not a monster, what am I?” _What am I to you?_

“You’re impossible. In every sense of the word.”

“I can live with that.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re meant for more than that.”

“I’m meant for nothing and no one.”

The sorrow in her eyes became to much to handle and he looked away from her, only turning back to her when he felt the connection between them dissipating.

He held her gaze until he was alone.

Clenching his fists, he sat down, placing the crystal down in front of him. But before he closed his eyes to begin meditating, Rey nudged a thought across the bond.

_You’re meant for me._

_I know._

Satisfied with his response, she pulled away and he finally began focusing on mending his crystal.

A day or so later, he sensed that he’d done all he could to try to repair the crystal. Unable to overcome the fear of visual confirmation of failure, he kept his eyes closed, running his fingers over the crystal instead, searching for cracks. Feeling none, he opened his eyes, expecting a white crystal. It wasn’t white. It was black. He blinked as if that would fix the dissonance between what he expected and what he was actually looking at. It didn’t. The crystal was still black. That wasn’t what was supposed to happen, but it didn’t feel _wrong_. The crystal, when it was red and cracked, had felt wrong. It didn’t now. It felt balanced. More importantly, he’d been presented with a valid reason to connect with Rey.

He reached out for her through the Force, willing himself to appear there next to her, to be near her, to be with her. 

“I need to ask you about those Jedi texts you stole,” he began without preamble.

“I didn’t _steal_ them.”

“You didn’t steal what?” an unknown, unseen person asked.

“Nothing,” she was quick to blurt out.

She was in the middle of a conversation. Frustration began to radiate off her and it took him longer than it should have for him to realize that his presence probably wasn’t welcome. But he did eventually begin to pull away only for her to panic.

“Stop! Don’t go anywhere”

At first he assumed she was still talking to the same person, but he still hesitated.

“Yes, you. Stay.”

So he remained.

“Rey, who are you talking to?”

He tried but failed to place the vaguely familiar voice.

“You…No one…I’m talking to myself.”

He stifled a laugh at her inability to lie and she shot him a glare.

 _“Who_ are you looking at?”

“No one,” she insisted, “It’s nothing.”

“Is it _him_?”

“No,” she said a little too emphatically, “I closed the connection.”

He raised an eyebrow at that blatant lie.

_It’s not a lie. I did close it. I also reopened it, but that’s not the point._

“Did you know he was on Bespin when we were?”

“What are you talking about Poe?”

He smothered the wall of rage he felt towards the pilot before it could bleed over the bond.

“Connix told me he was on Bespin. That Leia sent _him_ to look for you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, “What’s your point?”

“He can track you through the bond, even when you have it closed. You need to break it permanently.”

“It doesn’t work like that. And he found us because the First Order has spies everywhere. He’s the one who gave Leia all that intel.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not! Why are you so threatened by him?”

“He’s the enemy.”

“Not anymore.”

“He’s _Kylo Ren._ Even if he were to fight on our side he’s still dangerous, unhinged, and a murderer.”

“So are you. Minus the unhinged part.”

“I just don’t want this bond you have with him to come between us.”

His heart dropped and he wrenched himself out of the connection he’d been immersed in. She hadn’t ended things with the pilot.

He didn’t know why he was surprised.

For the first time in a while he actively wished he was what Snoke had tried to mold him into. He wanted to be the monster shrouded in Darkness, where pain was only physical, where he didn’t care. Looking down at the crystal in his hand he was tempted to make it bleed again. He didn’t.

He set the crystal down next to the rest of the materials that had made up his saber. Then he stood, fists clenched, short nails biting crescent moons into the skin. He desperately wanted to destroy his surroundings, but he forced himself to refrain, he wasn’t in the position to replace Lando’s belongings. So instead he tried to talk himself down.

He had no right to be angry. Unlike before on the Supremacy, they actually clarified that she owed him nothing. He’d sent her away. And just because he was hers didn’t mean she was his. She didn’t deceive him. He couldn’t be angry with her.

But that didn’t mean he had to subject himself to her, so despite his desire to see if there were any mentions of black kyber crystals in the texts, when she reached for him, he kept her shut out.

They’d adjusted to the bond surprisingly well, quickly establishing a cycle of a short period of cooperation followed by one shutting the other out. The one comfort was that he wasn’t the one being shut out this time, though he was sure his turn would come again. That or they’d eventually get to the point where they both shut the other out for so long it became second nature, essentially breaking the bond. 

He wasn’t sure which option he preferred, only that they were both incredibly bleak, equally likely, and unfortunately, the only realistic outcomes.

He finished rebuilding his saber, the blade no longer jagged, but the vents on the side still served their purpose — the crystal, while healed and no longer raw, was still overly powerful.

The cross-guard design was a dead give away of who’s weapon it was, but the color was arresting enough to distract from it, plus the black blended in far more than the red.

More importantly, he was out of time to design a new weapon, meaning the saber would have to do. His Knights had gotten their orders’ to take him out; he could sense the way the Force had angrily warped around them. 

Ideally, he could meet them on his terms, ambush them as much as a single person could ambush a group of six. But his best chance of doing so would be on their turf, which meant risking showing up on the First Order’s radar.

This left him with two other choices: hop from planet to planet, doing what he could to help for short periods of time to evade the Knights or settling down in a remote area and waiting for his Knights to track him down. The first options, put other people at risk. The second option meant doing nothing and he’d never been comfortable with being idle. 

Recklessness won out. He confirmed that Hux’s flagship was nowhere near where he was going and that the pattern it’d been moving in didn’t indicate that it would be going there anytime soon. As far as he could tell, his former acolytes were together at their base of operations. Then he began hiding his Force signature in subtle increments to avoid piquing their interest or suspicion.

His fading presence was accompanied by more frantic attempts by Rey to reach him. He successfully ignored them.

Satisfied that his Knights wouldn’t sense him coming, he shared a gruff goodbye with Lando before climbing into his Silencer.

Ensuring his saber was securely attached to his belt, he entered the coordinates for Mustafar and took off for what was most likely an endeavor that saw him dying painfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the delay. I'm not going to lie; I honestly just got bored of writing this fic and ran out of ideas. But I finally got _some_ inspiration, so I have enough material for a few more chapters. A fic by me is never left unfinished, only abandoned for months at a time. Prompt me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben faces down his Knights.

He cloaked his ship before dropping out of hyperspace, Mustafar suddenly looming before him. Snoke had “gifted” him his birthright, Vader’s Castle, when he successfully declared himself Master of the Knights of Ren by beating the students that left with him after Skywalker tried to kill him into submission.

Snoke had been impressed, had said he’d “earned” the castle. He’d been sure some sort of rebuke, some type of punishment was lurking within the obsidian tower. So sure, in fact, that he had honestly felt less anxious in front of Snoke than in what was supposed to be his own domain, amongst his own acolytes, entrenched in the Darkness he was destined for. 

He supposed now that _that_ had _been_ the punishment. Like everything else with Snoke, it was all deception, lies, false promises, and emptiness.

The unease he’d felt had led him to learn every secret held by the castle and the planet itself. The effort he’d put in finally paid off because he alone knew about the landing pads all over the planet and the tunnels running beneath the surface that led to the castle.

He kept his approach low and chose a landing pad a fair distance away. His Knights hadn’t seen his approach, didn’t know what direction he was coming from, if it even was him, but there was no way they didn’t sense that _someone_ had arrived.

It was beginning to settle in, just how stupid of a decision he had made, but he was past the point of no return. That seemed to be the overarching theme of his life — it was always too late. So he unclipped his saber and ignited it, using it to light his way through the tunnel as he headed towards the castle.

It was rather unfortunate that the Knights could sense what was happening to one another, it made silently murdering them one by one virtually impossible and the last time he was outnumbered in hand to hand combat he almost got decapitated. Rey had had to save him, but she’d also been a distraction, he’d been watching her as she fought against one Praetorian guard and allowed the others to encircle him. He could do this. He had to do this. 

Exiting the tunnel, he stretched out his senses. Three were prowling around on the surface, forming a perimeter. The other three were in the castle: one in the main hanger, one in the atrium, and last on one of the floors between him and the rest of the Knights, most likely scanning for his ship. He headed for that one first.

He snuck up silently, the Knight only had enough time to turn around face him before he stabbed them through the chest, allowing them to fall to the ground without ceremony.

There was an instant shift in the Force as the remaining five Knights all turned their attention towards him. He was moving instantly, he needed to take two more out before they all united against him or else the odds of him making it out alive were zero.

The Knight in the hanger was rushing down to him as he was rushing up, but the one in the atrium had fallen back to group with the three outside. He clashed blades with the lone Knight and quickly caught their saber with the cross guards of his own, enabling him to twist the saber and drive it through his opponents skull. He picked up the lightsaber that had fallen from his grasp as he sidestepped the body, he stood a better chance with two weapons than one.

He was finally in the atrium, the massive door open to the terrace that the remaining Knights stood on. Four against one.

The Praetorian guards had used measured calculated moves, whereas his Knights fought like him. Normally, that would’ve made it easier to predict their moves, but the very nature of his fighting style was impulsive and unpredictable. He was essentially going into this fight blind. They collectively set a brutal pace and one of the blades he was using, he honestly wasn’t sure which, cut off a hand, sending another saber flying. He had to duck as the weapon came swinging back around into another Knight’s outstretched hand. He lost track of one of the four and a swipe to the back of his thigh seconds later sent him tumbling swiftly to his knees. He received a harsh kick to his ribs and he slumped forward, exposing the back of his neck. He swung a leg out, bringing down the Knight attempting to detach his head from his body before turning to stab the one behind him through the top of their head. He knew it was a bad move the moment he did it and he received confirmation seconds later as he watched the red point of a saber protrude through his abdomen. In a moment of stupidity he turned to kill whoever had stabbed him, which resulted in him going from impaled to having a chunk of muscle carved out of his side. He briefly lost his ability to breath and went down hard, though he managed to essentially vertically cleave the Knight in half on his way. Two against one.

He contemplated staying down, and allowing one of the remaining Knights to put him out of his misery, but he thought of Rey. He wasn’t the only one Hux would send his Knights after and he wasn’t the only one with a distinct Force signature. No one could leave here alive.

He waited a moment too long to get up and the one handed Knight went to stab him through the heart. A combination of them using their non-dominant and only remaining hand as well as what remained of his own abysmal survival instincts led to him avoiding being stabbed in the heart, the saber instead going through his lung. He returned the favor by bringing up his own saber and actually stabbing them through the heart as they bent over him. Their saber went out and their dead weight collapsed on top of him, helmet cracking loudly against his nose. One on one.

He shoved the body off of himself and scrambled to get back up. He attempted to stem the flow of blood from his nose, but only succeeded in smearing it across his face and settled with steadying himself on his feet. He rotated his lightsaber in his hand, trying to remain upright. His vision was starting to go dark as the last Knight charged at him. He just stood there, saber, now extinguished, held limply in his hand; he’d lost the other one at some point in the fight.

The Knight faltered imperceptibly, terrified by his lack of response. He used that moment to lunge forward, only reigniting his blade once he had it firmly pressed against the Knight’s throat. The Knight’s saber seared his shoulder before dropping from its owner’s lifeless grip. He gasped in pain and dropped his own saber. He collapsed onto his stomach and watched as his saber skidded away, out of his reach. It was just him now.

With a great amount of effort he managed to twist so that his back was against the ground, he didn’t particularly want to die face down — face up seemed slightly less pathetic.

All the of strength he’d thrown into creating mental barriers and hiding his Force signature escaped him now and he just let go of everything, staring blankly up at the sky. Almost at peace. 

Until that familiar presence appeared again.

“My god, _Ben,_ what the hell did you _do?”_ Rey gasped.

He let out a low pitiful groan of pain and frustration, she was the last person he wanted to have see him like this. Dying would be marginally more bearable if he was allowed to suffer through it alone, but he couldn’t focus enough to maintain the walls between his mind and hers. So here she was, watching him die, blood escaping from his wounds nowhere quickly enough for his liking.

“I didn’t exactly do this to myself,” he managed to snap between coughing up blood.

She grimaced. 

“Can you break the connection? I’d rather not have a witness for _this_.”

“I’m not doing this. This is the Force…What don’t you want a witness for?”

He had enough strength to quirk an eyebrow up at her question, he thought that was fairly obvious, “I’m bleeding out Scavenger. I’d like to die alone, or at least without you.”

She looked surprisingly hurt by that before narrowing her eyes, “Don’t be ridiculous,” she dismissed, “You know how to heal yourself with the Force.”

She wasn’t wrong. He _knew_ how to do it. He just couldn’t. Even if he had the strength to do it, he didn’t have solid enough footing in the Light to do it successfully.

He considered explaining that to her, but his breathing was getting shallower and he decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

He coughed up more blood. He knew laying flat on his back came with the relatively solid assurance that he’d choke on his own blood before anything else killed him. He couldn’t even find the will within him to shift to his side, so he laid there, one hand pressing into the gaping wound at his side in a pointless attempt to stem the bleeding, the other splayed out by his side as he stared up at the sun weakly shining through ashy clouds.

He was tired, he could afford to shut his eyes for a bit, besides the ash was getting in his eyes. It seemed ridiculous that such a minor irritant could still bother him, given the state the rest of his body was in, but it stung.

His world faded to black.

Someone was yelling at him; he flinched. Then they began shaking him and he ineffectually tried to shrug them off. They pressed down on his shoulders firmly, a silent instruction to stay still before moving on to prodding painfully at his injuries.

“Ben!”

His eyes flew open of their own accord. Rey was hovering over him, a surprising amount of concern in her eyes. His breathing hitched. He blamed it on her hand pressing down on the worst wound.

He looked down at the point of contact, her hands were covered in his blood. Lovely.

“What are you doing?” He hissed.

“I’m trying to help. Now I need to take this off,” she tugged at his tunic, “to see how much damage there is.”

“Rey, no amount of bacta is going to fix this.”

She ignored him, electing to tear the fabric and peel it off of him. It stuck painfully to his wounds, but she managed to expose his battered torso.

He looked down and was honestly surprised by the extent of his injuries. He didn’t look good.

Evidently Rey was taken aback as well, based on her sharp intake of breath.

“Okay,” she said shakily, more to herself than to him, “I can do this. I can do this.”

He bit back a sarcastic comment about her abilities and how safe he felt knowing she was in charge of putting him back together. 

She reached out, more tentatively this time, with her eyes closed and brushed her hand against the wound that would probably kill him first.

Breathing out, her brow furrowed in concentration. He could feel her pulling from herself, from the bond, from the Force, to knit his body back together. It took his breath away and he watched her, slack jawed.

She finally withdrew her hands and looked down at her handiwork, letting out an audible sigh when she took in the bloody and scarred, but whole flesh.

When she looked to his face he realized it had been a sigh of relief. There were the beginnings of a smile on her face, “I…”

The connection snapped closed and he was left alone, covered in blood, but alive. 

His body screamed in protest as he forced himself up to his feet, calling his saber to him. The longer he stayed on Mustafar, the greater the odds he would get caught by the First Order.

He limped back towards his grandfather’s castle and stumbled through it, reaching the entrance to the hidden tunnel he’d used to catch the Knights unaware. Panting, he centered himself briefly before pushing forward, trailing against the rough walls. The walk was long, his vision was spotty and he began using the hand not bracing him against the wall to beat at his injuries just to retain consciousness. Reaching his ship, he practically dragged himself into the cockpit and dropped into the seat with no amount of grace. He put in the coordinates for Bespin again, he needed a place to recuperate and he had an open invitation. He lost consciousness as soon as he broke atmo.

He jerked awake sometime later in the middle of hyperspace. The familiar pressure against his ears that accompanied Rey’s presence was there. He glanced around the cramped ship as much as his stiff neck would allow. A once over didn’t reveal her, but she was there when he faced forward again, essentially sitting on the controls. He shifted back in his seat to create space between them, but the length of his legs made that attempt futile.

He tilted his head back against his seat, eyes closed, not in the mood for another spat, though the position did leave his jugular vulnerable to her. She evidently realized the same thing because he could almost feel her stare, she was watching his pulse with disconcerting attentiveness.

“How are you?” she asked quietly.

“Alive,” he paused, before deciding he should acknowledge what she did for him, “thanks.”

It was a pitiful display of gratitude, and he realized he wasn’t all that grateful to be continuing his miserable existence.

“You should’ve let me die,” he added when she didn’t say anything.

“You die; I die,” she said flatly.

“Well, that’s certainly unfortunate.”

“I know you don’t value your own life, but I value mine, so if you could be more careful in the future, that’d be much appreciated.”

He lolled his head to the side, glancing at her, “Consider it done.”

“Really? You’re not going to argue?”

“That last incident was damn near suicidal, which is a little more reckless than the level of carelessness I usually operate at. Won’t happen again.”

“What _did_ happen?”

“I ambushed my Knights.”

 _“You_ ambushed _them?”_

“Not well, evidently, but yes. I took them out, so that’s six fewer people after my head, your head, my mother, and whoever else is left in the Resistance.”

“Thank you.”

“I was looking out for myself.”

She smiled softly, kindly allowing him that lie, “I know.”

“Sorry for bleeding all over you,” he offered.

That earned him a small laugh and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

“Not exactly your fault. Where are you?”

“Hyperspace.”

She rolled her eyes, “Where are you going?”

“Back to Bespin.”

“Good,” she nodded, “Will you stay there?”

He scoffed, “No way in hell am I staying there.”

“You’re not planning on staying in any one place long, are you?”

“No, I’ll probably be back on Bespin fairly often though, see how many resources I can swindle out of Lando before he bans me from the system.”

“You’re more like your father than you realize.”

“You don’t think I know that? You think you knew him better than I did?” he raised his voice, leering forward, bracing his hands on either side of her.

Her eyes softened, “Ben…”

“You don’t think I see him in my reflection? You don’t think I see him, his hand on my cheek, _every_ time I close my eyes?”

“You never answered my question,” she whispered.

“Which one? I haven’t answered a lot of your questions.”

“Why did you kill him?” her voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked down at her hands.

He never could lie to her.

“I didn’t,” he murmured.

She looked up suddenly, bringing their faces closer together than they should’ve been.

“But I—”

“Will you let me show you something?”

He reached his hand out and she eyed it warily before nodding, acquiescing to him.

He brought the hand towards her temple, barely touching her before dragging them both into the memory.

He regretted subjecting her to the pain of that moment, but he needed her to understand.

She felt the malicious presence in his mind, whispering to him, the draw to the Light, so painful and blinding. The longing to go home. The fear of facing what’d he’d done. The panic as the moment stretched on. The second of relief as he made a decision. The second of joy as he realized he _could_ go home. The second of wonder as he realized he might not be a monster. The shock when the blade ignited. The unending horror that accompanied the realization that his father was the one who had ignited it. The grim resolve as he forced himself to push the blade the rest of the way through. The heartbreak of feeling his father’s hand on his cheek for the last time. The urge to throw himself off the walkway after his father. The unadulterated rage over what had happened that forced him to get up after the Wookiee shot him.

He stopped the memory there, he didn’t need Rey seeing his memories of her.

He pulled his hand away from her, purposely ignoring the trail of tears he knew tracked down his cheeks, carving their way through the ash and blood.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied softly.

She reached her hand towards him and he forced himself to remain still.

She dragged her finger tips down his scar before cupping his cheek.

They stared at one another in silence as the connection faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at writing fight scenes (and just writing in general) so I'm sorry about this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo pulls a Ben Kenobi (aka he moves to the desert).

He shakily landed the Silencer in Lando’s private hanger before stumbling out.

Lando was there to stop him from face planting on the duracrete the moment his feet hit the ground.

“Whoah, Kid, take it easy.”

He groaned incoherently, completely exhausted.

“Let’s get you to a medic.”

He managed to mumble some version of “just need a shower,” but was overruled and taken to a medbay anyways. He had enough strength to fight against being put in a bacta tank so they compromised by hooking him up to an IV that pumped in fluids, nutrients and, thankfully, painkillers. After checking him for a concussion and deeming him free of brain damage, he was allowed access to a fresher. He spent the better part of an hour propped up against the cool tile as a mixture of water and bacta fell on him. Once his legs were on the verge of becoming numb, he stood and actually scrubbed himself clean.

The bacta shower worked wonders and he was able to move freely. The bruises had faded to green and yellow and the scars weren’t quite so angry. He discharged himself despite the med droid’s protests.

He found his way back to the quarters he’d vacated only a few days prior and promptly crashed on the bed.

He woke up feeling more well rested than he ever recalled, despite the injuries.

He scrounged around the room, looking for clothes, only to find some very familiar ones folded by the window. He’d never seen his father’s clothes looking so clean and neat.

He opted to keep his own boots though he was more than willing to claim the jacket, glad it was still there after accidentally leaving it behind. Given his shirt was currently in shreds in a different star system and his pants had been so soaked in blood that the med droid confiscated them and most likely had them incinerated, he had no choice but to adopt his father’s navy pants and pale shirt. Glancing in the mirror, he looked so much like his father it hurt.

The surprisingly low cut shirts his father had favored left almost the entirety of the scar Rey bestowed upon him visible. He was grateful for the scar bisecting his face, it made looking in the mirror marginally less painful.

He secured his father’s belt around his hips, clipping his saber to it and making a note to try to get Lando to give him a blaster. And a short bladed knife based on the slit in the jacket.

He went up to Lando’s floor. He’d been expected, there were a large assortment of blasters on display and he eagerly went over to examine them.

Lando approached from one of the back rooms, “So Kid, what’s your plan? I’m assuming you succeeded in taking out your gang—”

“Knights.”

“Of course, _Knights_ , my bad,” he could almost hear Lando rolling his eyes, “Though you came back considerably worse for wear but alive, so it’s safe to say they’re all dead?”

“Yeah, they’re dead,” he replied.

He felt surprisingly melancholy about that. He realized he was the only surviving student of Skywalker.

“So, like I said, what now?”

“Can I keep the Silencer here and borrow a clean ship for a while? Preferably one bigger than mine”

“How big we talking?”

“Got any freighters?”

“What the hell do you need a freighter for?”

“I need enough space to transport supplies to build several moisture vaporators, a lot of extra water, and rations.”

“You’re not going to become an old hermit on Tatooine, are you?”

“Not permanently.”

“Fair enough. Lucky for you I happen to collect Corellian YT freighters, one of which your father won in a bet and had me reserve for you for when you were old enough.”

“He did that?” he worked hard not to get choked up.

“It was a cheap bet. He knew he would win because he used you as his bartering chip. I had to let him win or else your mother would’ve strangled the both of us like Hutts.”

He snorted, not at all surprised by the story, but comforted by it nonetheless.

“You have the supplies I need?”

“Yeah, I got ‘em. But don’t let anyone touch your ship when you’re on Tatooine, I’ll take it back if you take care of it the way your father took care of the Falcon.”

“I’ll take care of her, you have my word.”

“I’ve learned the hard way that a Solo’s word is no good.”

“Consider the Silencer as collateral for now.”

“That, I can accept.”

Once the ship was loaded and he got over how different an intact Corellian freighter looked compared to the Falcon he put in the coordinates for Jakku — he’d never had any intention of going to Tatooine.

He couldn’t fix Rey’s childhood, but he could make where she grew up a little less miserable for others unfortunate enough to be stuck there.

He entered the atmosphere on the opposite side of the planet from where he knew Niima Outpost to be, wanting to get the ship as dirty as possible before putting it down to draw some attention away from it.

Stepping out into the dry heat, sand whipping in his face, he was reminded of the last time he was on the planet. It couldn’t have been more than a year ago, but everything had changed. That Scavenger had turned his universe upside down.

He loved her for it.

He shook his head. The only thing that could come from following that thought was heartbreak.

He stalked through the outpost, searching for the Crolute he’d seen in Rey’s memories. He was in his stall, obviously cheating another scavenger out of hard earned portions. His blood boiled, remembering all the times Rey had gone to bed starving.

He watched from a short distance as they turned away dejectedly and he stalked forwards, purposely bumping into them and slipped two ration bars into the meager pile of portions they bent down to pick up. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Then he rudely cut in front of the next customer the Crolute was haggling with.

“You’re not from here,” he accused gruffly.

“No, but I’ve been to Tuanul. Do you know what happened there?”

“Some business with the First Order.”

“It was decimated. Burnt to the ground, the citizens shot, and their elder cut down with a lightsaber.”

He unclipped his saber, and turned it over in his hands, “Now, unless you want to face a similar fate, I would suggest that you give out twice the amount of portions that whatever people bring into you are worth. I know you can afford to do it, given how long you’ve been stockpiling portions that you haven’t earned.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Someone stopping by on Rey’s behalf,” he smiled grimly.

“Kylo Ren—” the Crolute backed up, going for a comm to most likely contact the Order.

He froze him in place, “If I was Kylo Ren, I would snap your neck right now. And you’re familiar with First Order practices, you know that if they come here, it doesn’t matter if they capture Kylo Ren, they’ll kill you either way.”

He released his hold and the Crolute glared at him, but put down the comm.

“And what do I get out of this?”

“Aside from your life? Eight moisture vaporators free of charge, on the condition that anyone can use them and they can use them at no cost.”

“And who is going to install them?”

“I will. I’m planning on sticking around for a bit, make sure you’re upholding your end of our deal.”

“Fine,” he growled, and waved him to go away.

He stalked back to his ship and brought out the pieces of machinery he needed, as well as tools. He lugged it over to where the one lone existing vaporator stood. It would’ve been a lot easier if he used the Force, but he was already pushing his luck with keeping his identity a secret, the odds of the First Order finding him increased with the number of people who saw him using the Force. So he did it all by hand.

When he turned it on, he was relieved to see that it worked and he was eternally grateful for all the times his father had him help repair the Falcon as a kid.

Jakku’s sun was directly overhead and he’d long since abandoned the leather jacket. If he kept working straight out in the sun the odds that he would pass out from heat stroke were fairly good, so he decided to move onto his other objective for coming to Jakku.

He discretely “borrowed” a speeder and followed the mental path he picked from Rey’s memories to her home. She’d left three things behind that had been important to her, he could only hope they were still there.

Getting off the speeder a few yards from her AT-AT he made careful note of the evidence of boobytraps that had been set off. He had to stoop to actually enter her home, but found the place ransacked once his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. He approached one of the walls that had been covered in tally marks. Brushing his finger tips over the scratches he could see Rey dutifully marking them each day. The ones closest to the bottom were shallow and made of several clumsy strokes — a child struggling to carve into the harsh walls of her home. The ones at the top were quick and efficient — a young woman trying to hold onto hope.

He let his hand fall from the wall and looked over the interior of the AT-AT again, his gaze catching on a flash of color. He grasped onto it and pulled her doll from the sand it had become buried in. He pocketed it. One down. 

Perched on a makeshift shelf was a small pot of dirt, dead flower petals had fallen around it. The plant had died without Rey there to care for it, still he dug his fingers in, searching for the bulb it had sprouted from and pocketed it as well. Two down. 

His search for the helmet proved fruitless; it, unlike the plant and the doll, served a utilitarian purpose and had been snatched along with her portions and jugs of water.

It was considerably cooler by the time he returned to the outpost and returned the speeder, so he carefully locked Rey’s possessions away on his ship and began work on the second vaporator.

Night had fallen by the time he finished and he was looking forward to immediately crashing on the bench in the ship, despite his need to shower. Once on board it became evident his odds of sleeping anytime soon were slim to none. Rey was perched on the holo table.

“New shirt,” was the first thing out of her mouth.

He glanced down, “Yeah well, considering that you ruined the previous one, I had to get a new shirt.”

“I’m not apologizing for that.”

“I would be disappointed if you did.”

They stared at each other silently and he became uncomfortably aware of the sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and his shirt to his skin.

Finally he turned and walked down the corridor towards the fresher. Rey followed.

He stopped outside the door, “Can I help you?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, given that this connection doesn’t show any signs of closing soon, I was just going to go ahead and shower.”

“Oh,” she stumbled back, her face flushing.

He considered her for a second, head tilted, trying to figure out her reaction, but ultimately ignored it and stepped into the fresher.

In the process of stripping he stopped to examine his shirt. It was basically sheer from absorbing his sweat and he just brought it under the water with him, washing it and hoping it would be dry by the next morning.

Satisfied that he was clean, he toweled off and put on pants on the off chance Rey was still hovering around.

She made her continued presence known by releasing some type of choking noise, “Don’t you have something _more_ to wear?”

“Shirt’s wet. It was pants or towel. I figured you’d prefer pants.”

“What happened to _your_ pants? These are way…just way…more...” she gestured up and down, face bright red.

He glanced down, his father’s pants, much like his shirts, were low cut. He bit back a smirk at how flustered she’d become.

“Calm down. You act like you’ve never seen a man’s torso before.”

“I haven’t,” she snapped, “I’ve seen your chest, that was plenty.”

That surprised him, he’d assumed that Dameron would’ve at least tried to “claim” her by now; given what he’d glimpsed from the pilot’s mind when he tortured him, he seemed like the type.

“Well, now you know what to expect when you and your pilot finally get around to it.”

Confusion appeared on her face briefly, before it was replaced by a knowing look, “That won’t be happening.”

Evidently, he showed no signs of understanding the implications of what she’d said, so she continued, “I’m not with him you idiot.”

“Oh,” he replied lamely, suddenly feeling much more exposed, “I’ll…uh…I’ll get a towel.”

He turned to go retrieve it from the fresher, but she reached out to stop him.

“When you asked about the Jedi texts, I was arguing with him because I was trying to explain that I didn’t love him and he wasn’t hearing it.”

“You don’t have to love someone to be with them.”

“No, but why would anyone subject themselves to that?”

“It’s better than being alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

He reached out to stroke her cheek, but the connection dissipated and his hand was left reaching for nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finishes up on Jakku.

He clenched his fist as he let it fall to his side. Staring at the spot she’d been standing in, he decided against trying to force the connection. He couldn’t face her. They’d reached a singularity, whatever happened next would change everything, send them past a point they couldn’t return from, for better or worse. He couldn’t be the one to determine which path to condemn them to.

After waiting for her to tug on the bond to no avail, he headed to the captain’s quarters and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep. The first thing he did upon waking the next morning was make sure his shirt was dryish before tugging it on and heading out to install more vaporators. 

He’d just finished the fourth one when he felt her presence.

“Same shirt.”

He didn’t bother to turn and look at her, instead preparing to start on the third one of the day, “Didn’t I mention I only had one?”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re a prince.”

“Of a planet that no longer exists. I’m also the son of a smuggler and have a sizable bounty on my head. Clothes aren’t my main concern. Besides, having more than one shirt would make me stand out more than I already do here.”

“And where _is_ here?”

He froze, lying to her wasn’t something he’d ever been able to pull off, “Why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity. I’m assuming somewhere hot or humid since you’re covered in sweat.”

“It’s best if I don’t say.”

“Is there a reason?”

“Of course-”

“Other than you just don’t want to tell me?” she cut him off.

“Yes,” he hissed, “I’m safer if no one knows where I am. I’m not going to ask you where you are.”

“You don’t need to. You managed to figure out I was on Ahch-To.”

He resumed working, “I saw your memories of the island when we touched hands.”

“What gave it away?”

“You’d been stargazing. I saw your memories of the constellations.”

“And that was enough?”

“I don’t think you understand how determined I was to find you.”

“You never told me why you didn’t tell Snoke where I was.”

He sighed heavily, finally turning to face her, “You know why. You don’t need me to tell you. You don’t want to hear me say it.”

She looked away uncomfortably.

He huffed in resignation and returned to his task at hand.

“What are you working on?”

“I’m building something,” he answered curtly. 

“I can see that, but I can’t see _what_ you’re building”

“It’s not a weapon if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’re not usually this secretive or rude.”

He slammed down the wrench he’d been using before rounding on her, “Actually, I _am_ this secretive and I _am_ this rude. In fact, I can be downright _cruel_. I’m sorry you forgot that.”

He didn’t know where all of the anger had come from, but it was suddenly there and had quickly boiled over. He chose not to care about the way she flinched at his words.

But then she surprised him by squaring her shoulders, “You’re not. I know you. You’re not _this_ ,” she insisted.

“You don’t know me at all,” he replied flatly.

He hated the heartbreak he could see in her eyes.

“Yes, I do. I _saw_ your future. I _know_ you.”

“Do you _honestly_ think that whatever future you saw for me is still possible?”

“Yes,” she said with a conviction that clearly implied she thought _he_ was delusional for thinking it wasn’t.

“It’s not Rey. It never was. What you saw wasn’t real. Snoke showed us what we wanted to see.”

“Snoke didn’t create this bond!”

“No, but he manipulated it.”

“You weren’t wrong about my parents.”

“That’s true, but we haven’t had any of those visions since then.”

“So what if he showed us what we wanted to see? That doesn’t mean they couldn’t be true.”

“Even if it was possible for me to fight for the Resistance before we killed the Praetorian guards, it’s most certainly not possible now.”

“That’s not what I saw.”

“But you said…”

“I said you won’t bow before Snoke, that you’ll stand with me.”

“Rey, you _are_ the Resistance.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Yes you do; they need you. And you will _always_ choose them. They’re your family. There’s no universe in which you give that up.”

_Especially not for me._

“But you-”

“Don’t matter. I never have.”

“Do you really think so little of yourself?”

“Yes, I find it baffling that more people don’t.”

She shot him a quizzical look.

“There are three people who don’t think I’m the scourge of the Galaxy. That number should be zero.”

“You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for.”

He stared at her blankly. He didn’t know how to respond to that, how to respond to praise.

Her cheeks took on a pink tinge.

“I’m building water vaporators.”

He immediately wished he could take the words back. Of all the responses he could come up with, that had to be the most asinine.

He turned back to the vaporator in question and picked up the wrench again.

“You’re not on Lah’mu are you?” she asked in a hushed, yet hopeful voice.

“No, but I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you are.”

He took her silence as confirmation.

“You’re still not going to tell me where you are, are you?”

“Nope. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like you can come and retrieve me for the Resistance.”

“Will you at least tell me why you’re installing water vaporators?”

“The people here need more than one and they shouldn’t have to pay to use it,” he purposely avoided making eye contact.

“You weren’t lying about providing humanitarian aid.”

“I’m insulted that you thought I would lie about that.”

“I thought you’d be doing more mercenary type work.”

“I wouldn’t turn it down, but this is more important.”

He made a point to memorize the brilliant smile she graced him with.

“Are you making this connection happen?”

“Yes, I’d been trying for ages before it finally worked.”

“I don’t think we have as much control over this as we thought.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you. It’s taking effort to keep this open.”

“Then close it. I should stop talking to thin air anyways.”

Rey rolled her eyes, “People are going to think you’re unhinged whether you’re talking to yourself or not.”

She allowed the connection to snap shut and he was left to stifle a laugh.

Between setting up the remaining vaporators and keeping an eye on Plutt he replanted the bulb he’d taken from Rey’s AT-AT and coaxed it back to life. He didn’t know how, but like the dice, he’d get the plant and the doll back to her.

He also tried manipulating the bond. It had responded to him easily before, but now it obscured her from him.

He’d been on Jakku for a little over a standard week before he was finally able to force the bond to connect them again.

He’d sensed a shift in the Force. In Leia. The same shift he’d sensed in Skywalker. His mother was dying. 

He frantically pushed though the Force and found Rey looking up at him. As if she’d been waiting for him. 

He opened his mouth to ask what happened, but no sound would come out, his breath hitched and he choked out, “Can I see her?”

She didn’t say anything, just held out her hand and he gently grasped it, allowing her surroundings to pull him in.

He knelt at the bed his mother was lying in. With the hand not holding onto Rey, he took his mother’s hand into his own. She looked tired, somehow ages older than when he’d last seen her, but when she opened her eyes to look at him, they were as bright as they’d always been.

He felt tears welling up in his own eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek just the way his father had.

“My Ben, I knew you’d come.”

“I love you.”

She laughed, “I know.”

“You can’t go, not yet.”

“It’s just my time Ben. You can’t say I haven’t earned a break.”

He gave a watery laugh, the tears falling freely now, “Please.”

“No. I’m finally at peace, I’d like to go out that way before you find some way to screw it up,” she chided kindly.

He bit down hard on his lip to stop from openly sobbing, “Alright mom.”

She squeezed his hand, “You’ll see me again Ben.”

She closed her eyes and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead as he felt the Force leave her body.

He pulled back, looking at her expectantly, waiting for her body to fade away, to become one with the Force.

The seconds he spent waiting turned into minutes.

“Ben,” Rey whispered and he jumped, having forgotten she was there, despite the death grip he had on her hand, “She’s gone.”

His brow furrowed, “No, her body, it’s not supposed to still be here. She’s supposed to-”

His lip quivered. She hadn’t studied as a Jedi. She wasn’t coming back.

He slumped to the ground, letting go of Rey’s hand. He stared ahead blankly as the connection dissipated.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed crumpled on the floor of his ship, but he finally picked himself up, igniting his saber. He took a deep breath and then began slashing at the walls in anguish. He couldn’t see clearly, tears had blurred his vision and he couldn’t hear the hum of his saber over his own screams.

He eventually collapsed and could only sob until he lost the ability to produce tears. The last of his family was gone. He was alone.

He managed to compose himself long enough to send Lando a short message:

> _Leia is dead. Make sure she gets a proper funeral._
> 
> _— Ben_

He fell asleep at one point, waking up to a message from Lando:

> _Funeral is on Naboo._

It was only after he put in the coordinates and jumped to hyperspace that he realized he would have to somehow explain the state of the Freighter to Lando. 

It was the least of the issues he’d face showing up for his mother’s funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this is so late and so short. This chapter fought me every step of the way and I'm still not happy with it. But I needed to update and I do have high hopes for the next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben attends Leia's funeral.
> 
> TW: suicidal ideation

It was a nice funeral, in the sense that the grandeur of it was worthy of her.

Personally, he thought it would be more fitting for her to be spread out across the stars. After all, that’s where her parents had been laid to rest, where her husband had been laid to rest.

He’d been late, having only entered Naboo’s atmosphere after Lando had informed him he could land in a hanger without being seen by the Resistance. Although, Lando had been kind enough to leave a clean pair of pants and a shirt, both black, for him, as well as a note saying:

> _Since I don’t know when you last washed your clothes._

Putting them on, he wondered just how many pieces of his father’s clothing Lando actually had.

He had to watch from the funeral procession a distance.

Instead of being the one trailing behind her coffin with the Wookiee and Lando, that damn pilot was in his place.

He couldn’t even be in the crowd that had come to mourn her. 

He’d been relegated to climbing up one of the taller buildings and perching on the roof. He wasn’t exactly out of sight, but no one would notice. All eyes were on Leia, like they always were whenever she enter a room.

He jerked in surprise, almost skidding off the roof, when Luke materialized next to him.

Luke was the one to break the silence.

“Well, you’re officially the last of the Skywalkers.”

“Good,” he snapped bitterly, “this bloodline has destroyed the Galaxy twice, it’s time for it to die.”

“Much like ‘old things,’ and the ‘past’?”

“Yes.”

“I was being sarcastic Ben.”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed. You’re a lot more like Han in your decrepit state.”

“And yet, you’re still more similar to him, despite your best efforts.”

“If that’s supposed to be an insult, it won’t work. I’ve given up trying to hate him.”

“Any progress is good progress.”

“I still hate you though.”

“I know.”

“I hate you more than I hate Snoke.” 

“I know that too, and you should; I hurt you more than he ever did.”

“So, why are you here?”

“I need a reason to attend my sister’s funeral?”

“No, but you need a reason to be up here with me.”

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Yes, your presence is very comforting.”

“I’m the only one capable of being here. You should know that Han was adamantly against this. He’s furious about what I did.”

“Can’t say that I blame him.”

“He’s been keeping an eye on you.”

He smiled to himself a bit, “I know. Tell him I love him when you get the chance.”

“I will, but he already knows; like I said, he’s been keeping tabs.”

They lapsed into silence as the sun set. Luke’s presence faded away shortly after.

He was alone.

Though the funeral was technically over, people were still congregated, waiting for their turn to pay their respects to her in private.

He wondered how many of them had refused to help her when she asked for it on Crait. 

Eventually the crowd thinned until the only company he had was two of Naboo’s moons. Positive that the people who cared for Leia most were drinking in celebration of her life like she would’ve wanted them to, he finally descended from the roof.

He stole across the empty bridge, but froze outside the chamber Leia had been laid to rest in. He hadn’t brought anything to lay by her side. He knew he was a terrible son, but he should’ve brought something.

Someone came up behind him, “You went to Jakku?”

He turned to ask Rey how she knew, but was answered when he noticed the small plant in her hands.

“You snuck onto my ship?”

“Yes,” she answered promptly, before amending her statement, “Well, technically Lando did and I followed him.”

He winced, “How mad is he?”

“Not terribly, he honestly expected worse.”

“That’s fair. Now why are you here instead of partying with the Resistance?”

“To give you this,” she said as she handed him her plant.

He took it, “This is yours.”

“You were the one who brought it back to life.”

“For you.”

Her cheeks turned pink under the moonlight, “I want you to have it, to give to her.”

“Are you sure?”

“You went to Jakku, we’ll discuss why another time, but this is yours now.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m also here because I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m pretty sure you would be less alone back with the Resistance.”

“Not in the ways that matter.”

He nodded mutely.

“Are you ever going to go inside?”

“Come with me?”

She grabbed his free hand and led them inside.

He stepped forwards to place the flower down while Rey hung back, but something caught his eye. Lying in the hand of the mosaic of Leia that covered where she’d been buried, was a set of very real dice. And a note. 

He picked them up, placing the plant in the empty spot and unfolded the note:

> _Ben,_
> 
> _I’m proud of you, and your father would be too. You’ve earned these._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Mom_

“Chewie left them there for you.”

“You people need to stop treating me like I’m a charity case.”

“How would you like us to treat you then?”

“The way I deserve to be treated.”

“And how’s that?”

“Like I’m a monster.”

“Monsters don’t go to desert planets to install water vaporators.”

“They do if it’s in their own self-interest.”

“And what did _you_ gain by doing it?”

“The ability to look at myself in a mirror and not be immediately overcome with the desire to break it and use one of the shards to slit my own throat.”

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone who hates themselves as much as you do.”

“With good reason. Most people haven’t done what I’ve done.”

“Most people haven’t had to go _through_ what you’ve been through, and the few who have either didn’t make it out alive, or didn’t make it out at all.”

He didn’t know how to respond to her earnestness, so he slipped back into sarcasm, “Careful Scavenger, if you’re any nicer to me, I might think you actually care about me.”

She frowned, “You think I don’t care about you?”

“I don’t think you _should_ care about me; whether or not you do is really neither here nor there.”

She didn’t say anything more and he rose from where he’d been kneeling. Turning around to leave, he found Rey effectively blocking his exit.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“You’re not alone.”

“True. Luke has taken to stalking me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

They lapsed into familiar silence, studying each other.

“Why did you go to Jakku?”

“I had business to take care of.”

“Business?” she asked skeptically.

“I made a trade.”

“What kind of trade?”

“In return for fairly distributing portions and providing free clean water, I wouldn’t kill the Crolute.”

“But you went to my old house.”

“You left some things behind; I thought you might want them back.”

“You went back for me,” it wasn’t a question.

He sighed, “Is that so surprising?”

She didn’t answer him, instead stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. It was comical how much bigger he was compared to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest.

He finally returned her embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Eventually she pulled away and he forced himself to let her go.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t plan this far ahead. What about the Resistance? Who’s going to be leading the good fight?”

She looked down, mumbling, “Dameron.”

He snorted in disbelief, “So what you’re telling me is that the entire galaxy is fucked?”

“He’s not that bad…”

“Didn’t he get over half your fleet decimated, get demoted, try and fail to stage a coup, and then get what remained of the fleet destroyed as well? Or is there a different _Captain_ Dameron?”

She chewed on her lip.

“You should’ve picked that Stormtrooper to be in charge.”

“Finn?”

“Unless there’s another Stormtrooper defector I don’t know about, yes.”

“You nearly killed him.”

“ _Nearly,_ “ he insisted, “Besides, Starkiller wasn’t the first run-in I’ve had with him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At Tuanul, he didn’t follow my orders or Phasma’s. He didn’t kill the villagers. I _knew_ he’d broken his conditioning. And I just walked past him without doing a thing about it.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but why?”

“Apathy? Jealousy? Some twisted form of compassion? Doesn’t change the outcome. But he knows how to fight, he knows the First Order, he cares about people, and most importantly he knows how to be scared. He knows how to be scared, but keep going anyways. That’s who you need to lead the Resistance.”

“Do you _respect_ him?”

“Yes, immensely. Though maybe don’t go around telling people that. I doubt having my stamp of approval would do him any favors.”

“You’re really still not going to come with us?”

“If I couldn’t before, I most certainly can’t now. I don’t have my mother’s protection anymore. And I get the feeling your new general might put out a bounty on my head larger than the one the First Order gave me.”

“Stay with Lando then. At least until you figure out what you want to do.”

“Fine, I have to talk to him anyways — need to come up with _some_ explanation for what happened to the interior of his ship.”

“It’s fairly obvious that you attacked it with a lightsaber.”

“Well then I need to come up with a valid reason for doing that.”

“You’d just lost your mother. I’d say that’s reason enough.”

He nodded to himself, “Goodnight Rey,” and he walked past her, intending to just hunker down in his ship. Instead he found himself face to face with the Resistance’s new general.

Well, he had to crane his head down to actually be face to face, but the concept was the same.

“Rey,” he called over his shoulder, “your boyfriend is here.”

“Ben, when are you going to get that I- Poe,” she stuttered to a halt.

“I didn’t want you to be alone; I needed to make sure you were okay. Evidently, it’s a good thing I came, seeing that the _enemy_ is here.”

He clenched his fists, but found the willpower to leave the situation, muttering, “I’ll leave you two to your argument.”

“You’re not going anywhere Ren,” Dameron commanded, having drawn his blaster.

He spun around, using the Force to rip the weapon out of the pilot’s hand. He examined it momentarily, ultimately deciding to holster it, having an extra blaster never hurt. And then he turned on the pilot, freezing him in place like he had done on Jakku, “Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to shoot me? Because I do, and I have no qualms about repeating that event. So, if you value your life and your sanity, I suggest you give up your crusade against me because I _will_ end you the next time you try to pull something.”

He released his hold on the pilot and walked away.

He didn’t get far before Rey was chasing after him.

“Ben! Stop!”

He stopped, unable to deny her demand, “Rey,” he began softly, “Don’t. Don’t ruin your standing in your family over me.”

He briefly squeezed the hand she’d reached out towards him, allowing her to drag him closer to her. He murmured, “Goodbye Sweetheart, I promise I’ll come back when you need me,” into her hair. 

She let out a small choking sob and he kissed her forehead before letting go and continuing to put distance between them.

He was still close enough to hear snippets of the pilot shouting angrily.

“What is _wrong_ with you?! You’re _willingly_ associating yourself with _Kylo Ren!”_

“I’m willingly associating myself with _Ben Solo._ I could do a lot worse,” she hissed defensively.

He forced himself to keep going, his presence would only continue to cause problems and he needed to talk to Lando about unofficially smuggling for the Resistance.

Besides, he knew the Force would connect him with Rey sooner rather than later.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben decides to go back to Bespin.
> 
> Disclaimer: you're probably going to hate me for this chapter; please be kind.

He was trying to sleep, he needed to deal with Lando early the next morning. Trying, because a short while after he’d collapsed on his bunk, voices carried into the hanger.

“Do you really think he’s even capable of caring about anyone other than himself?”

“Yes! Are you?”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“The _only_ person he _doesn’t_ care about is himself. But _you,_ the only thing you care about is your ego.”

“That is a load of bullshit Rey and you know it.”

“I’m sorry; you’re right. You care about BB-8.”

“I care about you.”

“You care about the _idea_ of me. You care about how having me on your side makes _you_ look. You care about others to the extent that they affect _your_ image. You’re conceited.”

“And he isn’t?”

“This isn’t about him!”

“Isn’t it? You’re in love with him after all. How long have you been betraying the Resistance?”

“I _haven’t_ ,” she hissed, “he isn’t the enemy. And even if he was, all he would need to do is sit back and watch you destroy the Resistance with your arrogance.”

And then it grew eerily silent. Concerned that one of them might have murdered the other he strode down the ramp of his ship, scanning the hanger for them.

No one was dead. Though he really wished he was. 

The pilot had Rey in an embrace. One that she evidently hadn’t resisted.

He remained frozen for a moment, his body not responding to his commands to walk away. 

Then Rey roughly shoved the pilot away and he managed to disappear before either of them noticed his presence.

He settled in the cockpit, not wanting to experience the new nightmares his subconscious would inevitably supply. Maybe he’d go to Takodana instead of helping Lando smuggle for the Resistance, do what he could to make up for bombing Maz’s castle — if she didn’t kill him on sight. 

Fewer chances of running into _her_ that way. Of course he’d still need to go back to Bespin to return the freighter and reclaim the Silencer. 

He fell asleep in the cockpit and woke covered in a cold sweat, his nightmares plagued by crushing loneliness. Checking the chrono, he saw it read 05:00. Trying to go back to sleep was a pointless exercise, so he shuffled to the fresher.

Feeling more awake, he headed into the communal area only to find Lando occupying it, two cups of caff on the table.

“Damn Kid, don’t you have a shirt to put on?”

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he grumbled, searching for the jacket he’d inherited from Han.

Finally finding it, he retrieved a flask full of Corellian Whiskey and dumped a generous amount into his caff.

“It’s a little early for that don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “Want some?” 

He brandished the flask in Lando’s direction.

He snatched it and splashed some in his caff.

“That’s it?” he asked, unimpressed.

“We can’t all be alcoholics.”

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

“Sure Kid, drinking the equivalent of three shots of whiskey at 06:00 is a reasonable thing to do.”

“My mom just died, excuse me for wanting to drown my sorrow.”

“That the only sorrow you’re trying to drown?”

“Yep,” he bit out defiantly.

“You know Kid, if you want to talk-”

“I’d rather not.”

“Alright, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled gratefully.

“So what’s your next move Ben? Personally, I’d love to have you help smuggle for me.”

“You mean you’d like my help smuggling for the Resistance.”

“Well, given who they’ve put in charge, they’re gonna need all the help they can get.”

“They don’t want help from me, and I don’t want to help them. The only reason I was protecting the Resistance was to keep my mother safe. Well, she’s gone now. My investment in their continued existence is gone.”

“Say we pretend that’s true, then what do you do?”

“Return your ship, collect the Silencer, and disappear.”

“You can’t disappear. You owe the Galaxy better than that.”

“I didn’t say I would be doing nothing. Just that I’d disappear.”

“And what _would_ you be doing?”

“I don’t see why that matters.”

“No offense Kid, but you’re a fucking mess. Someone needs to look out for you.”

“I have ghosts for that.”

“A living person who can physically take care of you when you inevitably get yourself grievously injured.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you be happy? Will you be safe? Will you have someone watching your back?”

“I don’t deserve happiness, nobody is safe, and I’m used to operating alone. I don’t _need_ anyone.”

“Everybody needs someone.”

“I’ll adopt a lothcat or something.”

“Do you even know how to take care of one?”

“Sure. Hux had one; I’ve abducted it enough times to, at the very least, know how _not_ to kill it.”

“Your solution to near crippling loneliness is to adopt animal while on the run from the First Order and shirking your obligations to the Resistance?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That is true…”

“I’ll tell you what Kid. You don’t have to smuggle for the Resistance, but if you guard my transports in that fancy fighter of yours I’ll get you a lothcat.”

“You’re bribing me with a cat?” he asked bemused.

“Yes. Did it work?”

“Give me a chance to catch a few more hours of sleep and I’ll follow you back to Bespin.”

“Good man,” Lando clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared down the curved corridor.

He slumped against the couch before laying down on his back, one leg resting across the top of it and the other dangling under the holo table.

He propped his head up under his arm and covered his eyes with the crook of his other arm to block out the light. 

It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it was better than the cockpit and he didn’t have the energy to drag himself to his quarters.

He fell into an uneasy sleep that was, wonder of all wonders, free of nightmares.

He woke up with a start when the feeling of being watched made his skin crawl.

Bolting upright, he was greeted with the presence of both his parents looking down at him.

He didn’t say anything, just stared, his jaw slightly ajar.

That had evidently been their cue to sit down at the table, his father chuckling at his appearance.

Leia spoke first, “I told you that you’d be seeing me again, Ben.”

“Am I hallucinating?”

“Nah Kid, we’re here. It’s been a while since we were all together.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say to his father now that he was actually face to face with the man.

“Thank you,” he settled on the last words he’d spoken to his father.

“Anytime.”

Leia turned to scold him, “You know, that was not what I meant when I told you to bring our son home.”

“Leia, the kid is 6’3” and has the Force. What exactly did you expect me to do? Drag him back against his will?”

He couldn’t help but laugh and his mother huffed in annoyance at them both, “The two of you are ridiculous.”

His father then took the opportunity to look him in the eyes, “I _am_ proud of you. I did a shit job of showing you, but I loved you Kid, still do.”

His throat closed up and he could only nod as Han squeezed his hand and Leia smiled softly at the interaction.

He woke up with a start again. There were tears drying on his face.

He looked around wildly for any sign of his parents, but his eyes only landed on Rey.

“You actually here or is this the Force?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. It’s the difference between choosing to be here or being here because the Force decided that now was an opportune moment to connect us, through it doesn’t seem to have any standard set of criteria for what it deems to be an opportune time.”

“I’m here.”

“Why?”

“I thought we were past me needing a reason.”

“Apparently we’re not.”

She frowned at him, “Lando said you weren’t going to help the Resistance.”

“The Resistance doesn’t want my help.”

“But we need it.”

“Lando has plenty of other people who can do that job.

“We need _you!”_

“You don’t. They have you and I’m sure you can convince Dameron to do whatever you think the right thing is. All you need to do is kiss him and he’s obedient.”

“You saw that?” she whispered, looking horrified.

He smiled coldly, “If you don’t want witnesses to your lovers’ quarrels and subsequent reconciliations, you’ll have to be quieter and more discrete.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Why?” he was genuinely confused, “If you’re going to apologize for anything, which you have no obligation to do, apologize for lying about it.”

“I didn’t lie,” she insisted.

“You said you’d ended things.”

“And I did.”

“Ahh,” he said as understanding dawned on him, “it’s like how you told him you closed the bond, but neglected to tell him you reopened it.”

“No, that’s not what it’s like!”

“Then what _is_ it like?”

“He caught me off guard, but I pushed him away.”

“You skipped the part where you kissed him back.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Why? What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I hurt you,” she said plainly.

“I’m not that fragile and we owe each other nothing.”

“Ben-”

“I have some logistics to discuss with Lando before I go back to Bespin. You should leave.”

He walked past her, shrugging on a shirt, and left, not waiting for her to follow.

He informed Lando he was leaving immediately and would meet up with him on Bespin later. He rushed back to his ship hoping to take off before anyone tried to stop him.

Luck had evidently been on his side as he entered hyperspace without a hitch. Then Rey popped up behind him.

The telltale signs of the Force connecting them weren’t there. She was actually on the ship.

“Fuck! Rey, what the hell are you doing here?”

“You don’t get to run away from me, not again.”

“No, I need to get you back to the Resistance,” he immediately began messing with the controls, fully intending on returning to Naboo.

She put her hand over his own and dragged it away, “Ben, please.”

He finally turned to face her, “What do you want from me Rey?”

“You offered me the Galaxy. I never wanted that. I only wanted to belong.”

“I know. And now you’re jeopardizing that by stowing away on my ship.”

“No, Ben, I wanted that belonging with _you. You_ were supposed to be my family.”

“Rey, I offered you the Galaxy because it was the only thing I _could_ give you. I couldn’t come back with you. Don’t you see that?”

“Yes, why do you think I’m on this ship with you right now?”

“To yell at me without interruption?”

She laughed and he realized he would never get tired of hearing it.

“Well, yes, but mainly because even though you can’t come with me, I can come with you.”

“Rey, I told you, don’t give your family up for me. I’m not worth it.”

“I believe I’m the one who gets to determine that.”

“Why would you even still want that?”

“Because I _know_ that future I saw is real. I want that future. I want that future with you.”

“And what future is that?”

“A future where we’re a family.”

“How could you possibly want that?”

“Because I love you.”

He froze briefly and then lunged at her, “Take it back,” he almost seethed.

“What?” she looked bewildered.

“Those words. Take them back,” he demanded.

“Why?” she was shouting now.

“Loving me is the worst thing you could ever do,” he said mournfully, “Take it back,” he was pleading now, “Please.”

“No, those words, from me, are yours now.”

“Rey…”

“I’ve never said those words to anyone before; don’t you dare throw them back at me.”

“I won’t be able to let you go.”

“I know,” she said softly.

She approached him slowly, raising her hand to place it against his chest.

“Tell me again.”

He smiled down at her, “I love you.”

She tugged on his hair, bringing him down to her level, and kissed him soundly.

Eventually she disentangled her hands from his hair and pulled away to catch her breath, “I love you too.”


End file.
